Stateless
by Think-ghastly-thoughts-quietly
Summary: "Unspeakable knowledge doesn't equate to unlimited power." With some government meddling, Lyn is in for a rude awakening when she finds herself entrenched in the complexities of an alien war. As she reconciles her new circumstances, she is put under the watch of a certain mech who'll teach her what it truly means to discover life beyond the stars. AU. OP/OC. T1 onward.
1. Protocol

**AN: Warnings: AU. Mech/Human. Mech/Mech. Occasional Coarse Language. Sexual Themes.**

 **I own nothing that looks familiar. Except the OC**

 **Prologue: R, Protocol**

 **FROM: DoD US IG (** **nat_sec dodig_gov** **)**

 **SENT: Saturday, June 20, 2007 11:38 PM**

 **TO: Banachek, Thomas ARD SSD (** **thomas_banachek ssd_gov** **) (Ref: code 446-C2)**

 **SUBJECT: IMMEDIATE RESPONSE ***Receipt_of_Acknowledgement_Required_*****

Recalling all RECONNOITER systems to Primary Storage. LYN.2.T7.R4 detected extraneous signal at 1000 hours this morning, June 20, 2007. Feedback is Positive. Single source has been confirmed.

Sufficiently relevant to suspend program immediately.

Maximize security protocols.


	2. Integrity

**AN: So, the story starts off...**

Chapter One: Integrity

 _ **Hoover Dam, Nevada 10:43 AM**_

Two days ago, Captain William Lennox could have said that he'd seen alot of shit in his days. But, what he'd experienced in less than twenty four hours stole the cake.

A flash of blinding light exploded. The room was consumed the room in white for only an instant. The glass cage, that was previously razed from the inside, held the remnants of the annilated phone.

Then, Lennox pictured his wife who'd hated the idea that he was going to be away for eight months. _You won't even know I was gone. I'll message you at every chance I get_ , he had told her, trying to reconcile Sarah's tears. _Promise_ , he'd placed his hand on the swell of her stomach. _I'll see you two soon._

Lennox withdrew from that corner of his mind. While thinking of them inspired regret, t.I Now wasn't the time.

At the soonest opportunity, Lennox removed his goggles. He caught sight of Epps sending him an incredulous look from across the room.

"Holy shit," the sergeant mouthed.

"Ah...So that's how the alien _bebé_ is made," Fig said at his left.

It was a joke, Lennox tried to reason, though he couldn't help his fingers from curling.

"Donnelly should've been here to see this," Lennox replied.

Fig, not usually the one to take kindly to confrontation, had visibly deflated. "My bad," he murmured.

Unexpectedly, the room dimmed to black and just as quickly the lights came back on, supported by the backup battery power.

Secretary Keller cleared his throat, garnering the attention of the room.

"Gentlemen," the politician began, "they know the Cube is here." As frightening as were his words, even more was his unwavering aplomb as he announced them.

Lennox didn't revel in that information and neither did Epps as he approached him.

"That's not good," he said.

Lennox couldn't agree more.

"This is Banachek: what's going on?"

The captain snapped his attention to the other side of the room as the director of Sector Seven succinctly commanded into a communications console on the wall.

" _Sir, we've undergone an electrical surge! The NBE-1 hangar has lost power and the backup generator can't sustain all systems residing in the upper decks_." There was an explosion at the end of the line.

As the director heard the response, his eyes widened and his face drew into a scowl. "Do not let NBE-1's cryo status deteriorate! Cut all operations."

" _But that will jeopardize the systems in the NBE-2-_ " the connection abruptly ended.

Lennox locked his jaw.. He knew well the implications of NBE-1's escape. He looked around the room, many faces he hardly knew and as panic bit in he wondered why he was still here.

 _I'll see you two soon._

Crossing the room in several quick strides, Lennox appeared at Banachek's side. "Do you have an arms room?"

The director looked conflicted, as though Lennox's question hadn't registered.

"Director!" Lennox snapped. "Where is your armory?"

Banachek hesitated. "You'll have to return to the upper decks," he provided after a moment.

Lennox didn't miss a beat.

"Show us."

XXX

"Get everyone to the NBE-1 chamber now!" Director Banachek's order reverberated. Lennox's men navigated to the Upper levels as fast as they could.

Epps jogged alongside him, not nearly as breathless as he was. "How'd they find us out so fast? I thought Banachek said the Cube couldn't be detected from any alien on the outside."

"Then maybe-" Inhale. "one of those bastards," Inhale. "have made it inside."

As he slowed to a march, he noticed the flurry of men in the armory.

Another rumble coursed through the ground under them.

Lennox immediately sought for the nearest gun hanging in the racks, finger hooking over the trigger guard. He felt a little safer cradling a firearm. Then he remembered what they were up against and the relief he felt trickled away.

"40 millimeter sabot rounds on that table!" Someone yelled.

"Ya know, you think you're out of the desert, and then it pulls you back in like El cuco," Fig said.

"I don't know what that is, man, but if it's like one of those motherfuckers we saw, I'm drillin a hole into its ass," Epps replied.

Lennox fed his weapon a sabot clip. He tried to ignore how his hands trembled as he chambered the rifle. Once that task was completed, he unholstered his pistol and ejected the empty magazine, inserting ammunition one at a time.

"Captain, what happens when that Mega-thing wakes up?"

After filling the last bullet, he looked up at Fig.

NBE-1 did have a name, Lennox remembered. _Megatron_.

Life would've made much more sense if they were fighting Russians or North Koreans or jihadists. That's what he trained for. Not aliens. Not Megatron.

 _Megatron_.

It even sounded stupid.

Lennox slammed the magazine into place as he looked at Fig. "Do you really want to know?"

"No."

"Okay then."

The room erupted into sudden commotion.

"We do not know what will happen if it gets near this thing!" Agent Simmons was sputtering in rage. "You - _You_ know. But, I don't know. No one is getting near that Cube!"

"So, you wanna wait here and see what happens?" The teenager retorted. "Megatron is defrosting in the next room and you think your bullets are going to stop him from getting to the Allspark?"

While he couldn't speak for everyone in the room, Lennox preferred not to hear that.

"We need to get out of here!" The boy insisted. "We need to leave with that Cube and get it to Optimus Prime; he can fix this!"

"I have people's lives at stake here, young man!"

Lennox raised a brow. And to think that this kid was dragged into the troubles of warfare because he was related to the man who discovered E.T. What crappy luck.

His candid opinion however, knew that the Witwicky boy was right. So far, all he's done was run from aliens. But what other choice did they have?

Lennox holstered his pistol and vaulted over the table. Feet planted firmly into the ground as he landed behind Agent Simmons. His hands shout out, seizing the man by his collar and pinning him to the nearest table.

"Take him to his car!" Lennox barked. Instantly the room shifted as every man equipped with a gun had raised his arm. With one hand, Lennox tugged out his own from his hip and swiftly positioned it at Simmons. " Drop it!" He dared the S7 personnel closing around him.

" _You_ drop your weapon, soldier." The agent retorted, though the hesitation was felt between them both.

Lennox could see the man's mind working, calculating his chances. "There's an alien war going on," he scoffed, "and you're gonna shoot me? I'm ordering you under S7-"

"-Don't exist," Epps interrupted loudly, weapon drawn at the S7 security personnel who currently flagged his captain.

The barrel of his gun pressed roughly into Simmons' chest as Lennox narrowed his eyes. "I don't take orders from people who don't exist."

"I'm going to count to five-"

"I'm gonna count to three." The captain said, his face grim and his words, careful and clear. "One...Two..."

"Enough!"

The order severed the tension in the air and the room stilled. Everyone turned to look in Secretary Keller's direction. He stepped forth, holding his hands up to quell the upheaval, his voice still remarkably calm. "All of you should get it together. The last thing we need is a civil war. If an alien invasion can turn man against one another, we might as well do nothing about it." He neared Lennox and peered over his shoulder at the man below him. "Simmons, get your head out of your ass and do as the man says."

For a moment, Lennox could hear his pulse in his ears, loud like thunder.

The agent relaxed in his grasp. "Alright. _Okay_." And relented. "You want to lay the fate of the world into the kid's Camaro, be my guest." Lennox released the man who'd stomped away petulantly.

"Thank you, Secretary Keller," Lennox said. He was returned with a nod.

"As for the rest of you," the Secretary of Defense said to the men in uniform, and pointed at the Captain. "You follow this man from here on out."

XXX

"Under my authorization, end testing procedures and release the subject!"

The silo fell quiet, but the workers hustled to follow the agent's demands. When the restraints were gone, the robot shot up cautiously, a mask sliding over its face. Its hand interchanged for a shape that glowed on one end and hummed. The humans clustered around it jumped back with caution. Lennox's mind cleared in an instant as he gripped his rifle so forcefully that his knuckles whitened.

"Hey hey hey, it's okay," the boy allayed the machine, "The Cube is here and the Decepticons are coming. Don't worry about them, they're not gonna hurt you." Witwicky turned his head and caught eyes with Lennox who received him with a curt nod. "Come with me, we'll take you to the Allspark," he assured the machine.

Seemingly satisfied, the robot stowed away his weapon by transforming it back into a hand.

Lennox could finally breathe.

XXX

Entering into an area through a corridor like cavern and stopping at the base of the artifact, Lennox remembered the Director had mentioned that there were faint traces of radiation emanating from the Cube and wondered what exactly he'd meant by "prolonged".

A violent quake under his feet shook him from his train of thought. Specks of rocks and dust floated down from the ceiling and scratched at his face. His eyes searched about the perimeter of the cavern cautiously, landing on a particular place where S7 technicians thronged.

For a long moment, he hadn't realized he was staring at them until he recognized the line of chrome containers resting on their largest faces. Something about the rectangular shape. Good men he knew would be shipped back to their families in similar boxes.

"Aww man, he about to do somethin'... " Epps said, eyes wide at something he had seen.

Lennox turned and watched the alien place its hands on the corner of the artifact closest to the ground. Its surface gleamed and every carved line alit in blue corona as though a switch had flicked it on. Bright energy crackled between the Cube and the robot's fingers and the alien chirped in warped clips beyond Lennox's understanding.

In the alien's grasp, the cube folded into itself. The symbols and hieroglyphics shrunk or disappeared as segments turned inwards, like a rubix cube whose square parts could collapse into the other. The robot turned back to face them, in its hands was the artifact that was only moments ago as large as the chamber that held it.

The demonstration was staggering, but Lennox concentrated then on finding a way to transport the Cube.

He called for the director's attention. "Are there any vehicles here?"

Banachek acknowledged him. "Yes. Do you have a plan of action, Captain?"

"Mission City is several miles away. It's the only place we have a chance at holding off the opposition," he said, "But first, we'll need to find a way to contact the outside." He paused for emphasis. "We need the Air Force."

"Of course, I'll have someone get you there." The director waved one of the S7 guards to proceed with Captain Lennox's request and guide them to the garage whose waypoint was located on the other side of the chamber.

Lennox intended to follow until a female researcher appeared at Banachek's side, strands of hair sticking out wildly from her bun. "Director Banachek, - theyre in danger. they… are in critical condition."

An obnoxious alarm reverberated above their heads in addition to the one that was alerting them of Megatron's rapidly failing cryo-state. The automated voice of a woman crept into his ears. "SYSTEMS BREACH. LIFE SUPPORT DIMINISHING."

"Evacuate them," Banachek ordered the researcher.

The woman nudged past Lennox to an area where he could see the arrangement of containers that sat on a elevated platform surrounded by a waist high railing. Impulsively, he followed her. He skipped up the steps to the nearest container and saw a shiny metal nameplate welded to the front, four lines of information imprinted on its surface. And a glass window revealing the sullen face of an unconscious man inside.

"Excuse me, what are you doing up here?" an S7 worker protested, but his voice had fallen on deaf ears.

It was perverted, what Lennox had discovered. For a moment, as he stared down at the containers he thought he was going insane. The government couldn't have been experimenting on their own people.

Something in him involuntarily snapped. He stormed up to the nearest technician and pushed him back into the console at which he was typing frantically.

"Answer yourselves!" Lennox said, brandishing the barrel of his gun. "What is this? You're using humans now?"

"Whoa, Lennox, what's up?" Epps rushed behind the captain, glaring automatically at the terrified worker. The entire squad had come to a stop as well. The roar that ripped out of the captain's throat earned everyone's attention, even the alien who was standing several yards away with its head cocked to the side.

"Captain Lennox, please let the man do his job." It was Banachek, trying to mollify his sudden outrage.

"What is this?" Lennox swung his gaze to the director, shoving the worker away who immediately resumed to his task. "Why?"

"Hey! Before you get your panties in a twist, think about something. You think we'd experiment on our kind if it wasn't voluntary?" Simmons, who answered for him, had a face of utter disbelief.

"You experiment on aliens, how does that convince me of anything? Get them out." Lennox's resolve teetered on the edge. "Or so help me God, if Megatron gets to them first…"

"The likelihood of the bad guys wanting anything to do with these pods are zero to none. Let's just keep them closed." Simmons insisted. "Besides, they're already dead."

Lennox remained unwaveringly unconvinced. He tried to see reason in Simmons' words. Tried to concede at Banachek's pleading. And failed miserably.

A little LED bulb in the center of one pod flashed. He flicked his gaze to the others down the line and noticed that five of them had changed to red when seconds ago they were white.

"Director Banachek, we've lost five," someone alerted.

"R-5: FAILING. SYSTEMS ARE CRITICAL."

Dead? Yeah right.

Lennox's eyes flashed to the twelve containers despairingly. Why humans were kept in pods under the approval of the government, he probably would never know. But he didn't care. Knowing would change nothing.

Those pods would become their coffins so as long as they stayed there.

"Hey, you!" He shouted at a technician fussing at the pods maintenance console. "Open these pods! Open them _now_!"

"The override code doesn't work," the technician stammered, moreso from Lennox's imposing presence. "You have to manually disable the chambers."

"R-6: FAILING. SYSTEMS ARE CRITICAL."

He did not look to Simmons' direction again. That man was useless. The same could be said for the director. Thus, without a single thought he sprinted to the next pod that was without a red light and panned his rifle, angling the muzzle at one of the chamber's hinges.

"Don't shoot! Unless you want to engulf the thing in flames!" Simmons yelled at the Captain.

Lennox had already pulled the trigger. A spark popped atop the surface of the container from the bullet escaping its barrel. The uranium pellet ricocheted, creating a jot of light as it quickly deflected off the surrounding metal surfaces. Everyone cowered.

Noting that the gunshot had done nothing to the casing, left not even a dent, Lennox raised his rifle above his head and slammed the butt against its hinges repeatedly. To no avail.

A shadow fell over him and he paused and turned. He leapt out of the way of the gigantic hand lunging towards him, a spectacular symphony of metal pieces working in accordance with the other as digits flexed. Realization dawned on him when he saw the yellow robot's hand wrapped around the hatch of the container, crushing it effortlessly, bending the the metal in ways it was not supposed to contort until the lid simply popped open.

Lennox's mind processed the contents of the pod after he had pushed it up.

She was young, he thought.


	3. Logical

Chapter Two: Logical

 _ **Hoover Dam, Nevada 11:43 AM**_

Sometimes, men were absolute idiots. And at times, it would remind her of her father.

They were supposed to be hightailed out of this _dam_. Ironically enough, they were in a confirmed "state of urgency" but they weren't being quite urgent about anything. Apparently, it had occurred to no one that there was a demagogue from the far reaches of the cosmos named "Megatron" in the next room. Otherwise they would all be gone.

When Bumblebee walked over to the uproar caused mainly by Captain Lennox, she had thought the Autobot would restrain the man with his metal hands - it would have been a move made in all their best interests. Though, the Camaro opened the container that the soldier was zealously trying to hack into.

Mikaela initially thought it was absurd, wasting time, creating all of this fuss, because Sector Seven ran experiments on humans and Captain Lennox had to seize the moral high ground.

"ALL SECTOR SEVEN PERSONNEL, EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. THERE IS A SYSTEMS BREACH. THREAT DETECTED. EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. "

A programmed voice blared over the intercoms, possessing the facility.

"This is a federal offense, what you're doing right now." Simmons badgered Captain Lennox, who was already headed out of the chamber with a body in his arms. The agent's snide remarks phased the captain none.

"Come on, Mikaela," Sam stirred her from her observation. "We need to go."

She stared at the Cube in his arms and wondered worriedly if that thing had a time limit on when it would transform back into its original size.

Bumblebee had transformed in front of them into the vehicle she and Sam had grown rather fond of. They'd both entered the car and followed Lennox's group to the main garage, hopping out when a soldier, who hastily introduced himself as "Sergeant Epps", waved them to approach. Once they did, Sergeant Epps shoved a bygone radio into Sam's arms. "If anything happens, we'll give you a holler on this. I just hope your Optimus whoever the hell he is can make this right like you said."

Sam nodded.

"Sir, I don't think it's a good idea to take-" The voice was abruptly cut off.

"I don't want to hear it." Mikaela heard Captain Lennox bark.

Mikaela watched the group of soldiers enter and, of course, led by the defiant army captain, himself. In his arms was a person dressed in a gray tank top and white cargo pants, barefoot, with short hair. She was unsurprised to see the dog tags jingling around their neck.

Catching sight of the two from the corner of his eye, Captain Lennox marched over to them, signs of obvious struggle apparent from the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face.

"What are you still doing here?" he demanded.

"W-We…" Sam tried to answer but his gaze continued to travel down to individual in his arms.

Impatient, Captain Lennox jerked his arms up to adjust the weight he was carrying.

"Take that Cube to Mission City and go!" Captain Lennox barked. "We'll follow right behind you."

Mikaela flinched at his aggressive tone and frowned. If he hadn't made such a big deal earlier, maybe he wouldn't have felt so rushed now.

Sam didn't hesitate though, and he cast a final glance at the woman before jumping back into the front seat of Bumblebee.

Captain Lennox craned his head for her to go into the car. "Well? Get out of here."

"I hope she was worth all the trouble," Mikaela murmured as she skirted around the trunk of the Camaro to the passenger side.

She missed his glare.


	4. Awake

Chapter Three: Awake

 _ **October 28th, 2007 12:43 PM**_

Memories colored in black and white scuttled back into the rear of her mind. Back into the shadows which began to fade away as she stirred from slumber.

When she started to wake at last, she knew something was wrong. The hum of an engine filtered into her ears. Her eyes opened, expecting to find herself within the confines of her pod but registered dark colors of the ceiling and piercing sunlight leaking into the tinted windows.

This was not typical waking procedure.

She was beginning to feel her senses returning to her, muscles gaining warmth. The smell of leather and musk filtered into her nose and her heart rate pulsed slightly faster than necessary. It seemed so long ago that she had last felt panic.

"Do you know where you are?" Whoever had directed the question at her, she couldn't recognize them.

She lifted up slowly, immediately gathering that she was situated in the back seat of a vehicle. Four bodies including herself were present. She looked down at her body, the white S7 suit still intact.

A man was in the front passenger seat staring at her expectantly.

"I-I'm in a Sector Seven owned vehicle," she answered him. To her right, the window showed the expanse of the desert. It may have been noon. "And… we are still in Nevada." Her jaw clenched. "Why are we leaving Sector Seven?"

"The facility had to evacuate because it was infiltrated by aliens come to release Megatron…" began his reply, "Or NBE-1…That's what he goes by on his planet apparently and he wants the All-Spark...The Cube. NBE-2. That's why we're here currently transporting it to Mission City and delivering it to a small group of aliens who are supposedly allied with us." He said, trying in vain to be as apt as possible but, for her, digesting the man's information proved difficult.

Aliens had come to Earth.

That fact alone could not get past the obstacles in her mind. But she couldn't understand this sudden place of denial - wasn't this what she prepared for?

"Apparently, they want the Cube because it-"

"Animates our technology." She finished and the face turned in her direction frowned. _I wouldn't be in Sector Seven if I didn't know that much._ She scowled. "And the Cube? Where is it? Is it still at Sector Seven?"

"It's…" Captain Lennox pondered his thought. Then: "It was able to become smaller, and we have it in one of the vehicles."

"I see."

"You could've taken a minute to let that sink in," the driver commented, gaze switching constantly between the road and the rear view mirror through which he could see her. "It's not like we're in any rush."

She would have to disagree. "Well it's not some toy. It's _dangerous_."

The driver glared at her and hissed, " _Sarcasm_. You should try it sometime."

"You must be wondering who we are," the man who first addressed her, steered the conversation, ultimately ending their bickering.

She looked at each of their ranks. "Captain Lennox, US Army. First Lieutenant Figueroa, US Army. And the driver with an attitude is a Technical Sergeant but I can't see his name tag."

"That's Sergeant Epps. I'm glad you two are getting along so well," Captain Lennox said. "And you?"

"My serial code is LYN-Two-Trial-Seven-Reconnoiter-Four."

"But what's your name?"

She hesitated.

"Who were you before you became a lab rat?" First Lieutenant Figueroa asked, brow arched critically.

She flinched. _Rat_. What a terrible word to call a human.

"I go by 'candidate R4'," she insisted.

She flicked her attention to the Captain and saw pity reflect in his eyes. Or maybe it was a trick of the light. Who she was before Sector Seven, she'd long done away with. That person was as separate from her as a stranger.

"What do you have to do with Sector Seven?" she asked, a question for essentially all of them.

"Those of us who had encountered an alien were transferred to the facility. The base we were stationed at was ambushed by one of them two days ago... and we lost some good men. We don't know how many aliens have arrived to Earth, but we've confirmed there are four non friendlies," Captain Lennox, answered on their behalf.

Her eyes lowered to her feet.

"Hey, don't you get it?"

She startled at the outburst and looked up.

"There are aliens on Earth!" Lieutenant Figueroa shouted, making no effort to veil his dislike of her. The man wasn't satisfied with her response. Did he expect her to break down in tears?

"Calm down Fig…" Sergeant Epps advised quietly.

"I know there are aliens. My mission was to contact them," she admitted.

"What do you mean?" Captain Lennox's voice was an urgent whisper.

It seemed everyone in the car had stopped breathing like she did. She contemplated whether it was a good idea to reveal the details of her work.

She released a slow breath and decided nothing good would come out of her following words. "Because Sector Seven knew NBE-1 was linked to NBE-2, I worked with others to establish contact with the aliens, draw them in…" She paused. By the look on their faces, she suspected that the direction of what she would disclose would deeply bother them. She proceeded anyway. "When we received our first return signal a couple months ago, I was suspended and those like me were placed in the stasis pods, not to be released until further notice."

"Then what's so special about you?" Captain Lennox pressed. She didn't know that the man asked that question so he could justify releasing her or if he should've left her in the pod to die.

"There's an implant in my brain that functions off of the coding in the Cube's signal. It _lightly_ emits an EM field, and if sensitive enough sensors pick it up, it could give someone- or something the ability to track me down. So, we were contained for security reasons." She paused. "But, the purpose of the implant isn't to draw the aliens in. It's to keep me and others alive." She felt like she'd said enough. Or too much.

"You brought them to us? How could you agree to that? Earth is in the middle of an alien war because of you." Lieutenant Figueroa's lips twitched downwards at the corners.

"That wasn't our intention and if it was I'm sure I would've known about it. We considered that the aliens were dangerous. But we took our chances anyway. If they were as advanced as... _Megatron_...then someone figured the civilization he came from couldn't have been without reason." she said. "It was mankind's ambition to encounter life beyond the stars. Why are we wrong because we succeeded?" She waited for someone to nod in understanding. Give an indication that - _yes_ \- she had acted only in humanity's best interest.

But, _no_ , their haunted expressions confirmed that she hadn't given them a good enough excuse. Though, there was nothing more that she could explain.

"Why am I awake?" She asked, to break the silence.

She didn't miss the sudden wave of discomfort flitting across their faces.

Captain Lennox pursed his lips. "When the aliens attacked Sector Seven, they'd targeted the main generator. As a result, the pods' life support failed. You were the only one we could get out in time before the others..." He hadn't finished the sentence, but he'd said enough.

She tried to not let that news bother her, distract her, so she stared at him, focusing on every aspect of his face that would indicate if he was lying.

"Look this isn't a debrief…" Captain Lennox sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I got you out of that pod because I couldn't stand the idea of experimenting on human beings. If that's what we've reduced to, then we are no better than the aliens who'd want to see us dead. But, It seems I was wrong, and your involvement with Sector Seven was entirely voluntary." With his jaw set, he narrowed his eyes at her. "But that doesn't change the threat. Do you understand that? Do you understand that while you've been asleep, robots have been terrorizing parts of your planet? How can you be so calm?"

The atmosphere in the van was formidably somber, set by these men who would go unimaginable lengths to protect the only place they could call home. But if they'd taken her lack of hysteria as proof that she didn't care for their world - her world - then they were wrong.

"Whoever said I was calm is an idiot, " she muttered. "I wish I wasn't awake right now."

XXX

NBE-1 was a majestic example of pioneered engineering. She'd first come across him on her eighth day after her arrival to Sector Seven three years prior. It was a harrowing surprise, one she would not likely forget. Perhaps, it was that alien that had inspired her to apply for Reconnoiter. And, it was that alien that set everyone - including her - on edge.

She'd asked why they were trailing behind the yellow Chevrolet in front of them and was answered that the vehicle was an alien determined to stop the "Decepticon" onslaught. She spoke little to nothing after that and the van descended back to a sulk.

As much as she wanted not to think about the possible demise of her teammates, she couldn't help but feel ill at ease that Captain Lennox had chosen _her._ Arbitrarily, at that. While she understood his motivation to do what he believed was right, logically what he'd done was wrong. Even though she was grateful to him, she was no longer contained and unless she burrowed several hundred feet underground or returned to her pod, she would be transmitting the very signal that drew the aliens to Earth in the first place. It made her scoff at the person whose bright idea it was to use the analog of the Cube and place it in her head.

A quarter of a mile north of them, an ambulance's siren wailed, its red strobe lights glared at the convoy from a distance. Two vehicles- a slick silver sports car and a city ambulance- swerved in an arc, creating a cloud of dust that obscured her vision of the dry sweep of the desert.

The convoy came to an entire halt in the middle of the road. Startling static erupted from a radio in Captain Lennox's lap.

"It's fine. It's fine. Th-they're friends."

The man positioned the microphone to his mouth. "We got a problem here?"

"No, it's just, Jazz... and Ratchet," was the shaky reply. "I-I don't know why they've stopped us."

Unsatisfied with the answer, Captain Lennox spoke into the radio. "Be prepared for anything. We don't know what we're dealing with. Just don't shut off your vehicles; we might have to make a quick exit if anything turns haywire."

Sergeant Epps nodded his agreement and unclipped his seatbelt, leaving the engine running as he exited.

Captain Lennox's expression dulled when he shifted his gaze onto her. "You'll stay in the vehicle."

"I don't see how that's necessary," she complained. "Didn't you say that this is my planet too? I'd like to know about the situation as much as-"

"You're staying in the car," he cut her off and left her with something unpleasant boiling in the well of her mind.

Lieutenant Figueroa avoided her eyes as he opened the door and slammed it closed.

She gnashed her back teeth, but otherwise did nothing. Captain Lennox's hostility was reasonable, she tried to convince herself. Yet, her confidence in excusing his antagonizing behavior dwindled. She thought of other ways she should have reacted upon waking to appease the captain. Would panic have been appropriate? Sadness?

Anger?

There were traces of that particular emotion lining her thoughts currently and she tried in vain to banish them. Wrath was an irrational response to the aliens. She's heard of stories where rage unchecked meant wars unresolved but, the anger that Captain Lennox invoked did not make it easy for her to merely dismiss it as a petty emotion.

And out of anger, she crouched out of the vehicle and opened the door.

The arid wind coming in off the desert smelled of sunlight and age. It'd been so long since she could remember what unrecycled air felt like on her skin.

She stepped out, immediately greeted by Captain Lennox's cold glare before he turned on his heel away from her with a scornful shake of his head. He stood in his camouflage uniform, with a rifle slung around his shoulder - it was a slightly imposing sight but she walked out on the road undeterred. As her gaze slid to the side of him she espied two teenagers, a boy and girl, staring at the cars in front of them.

The two vehicles that had stopped remained immobile and the drivers remained inside. Seconds later, the cars transformed and the robotic assemblies that emerged were still the same colors of the vehicles they had taken shape after.

The sun behind them alit their frames with a minor luster and the smaller of the two mechanisms stepped forward as the soldiers poised their guns. It scanned over the group of humans.

When it spoke, a distinctly deep male voice flooded her ears with shocking disbelief.

"Bee, you didn't tell us about the second signal."

Everyone momentarily glanced at the Camaro that chirped in response with a flash from its headlights.

"I'm getting y'all know who Megatron is don't you? If you don't, you haven't been paying attention." It said, bright blue eyes unfaltering. "Now if I was Megatron, I'm certain none of you would be alive right now. So put your damn guns away."

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the army captain wave his men down.

"To those of you who don't know, the name's Jazz." It stood up and introduced itself proudly then jabbed a thumb at the bright yellow robot accompanying it. "This here is my wingman and doctor, Ratchet- but he's the last one you want to see for relationship problems."

Ratchet huffed indignantly at them.

The teenage boy stepped forward. "Where's Optimus?"

"Him and Hide were stallin' a few Cons comin' our way; so they'll take a while before we can rendezvous with them in the city," he said. "An Allspark signature activated shortly, and I think the motto is like moths to a flame, they're all goin to the same place. Which means they're headin' in our direction." Jazz looked to the others who stared back blankly. "Okay, let me clarify in human terms : 'if y'all don't leave, you're fucked'."

"Figured that much," Sergeant Epps muttered behind her.

Before the silver alien could say much else, Ratchet interrupted sternly. "Jazz, stop socializing with the Earthlings. We must leave _now_."

"That's what I was tryin to tell 'em! Let's get goin' people," Jazz said. The alien effortlessly folded into itself, metal thrusting out into silver blades before fixing into position. She swung her gaze around and observed the teenagers jump into the Camaro and the captain's men return to their vehicles while the ambulance, Ratchet, rolled forward.

She heard Jazz's voice emit from the vehicle he'd previously emerged from as a nervous lump formed in her throat. "Hey there sweet thang, mind keepin' me company?"

"Who says she has to?" The captain suddenly intervened, lingering at her side but maintaining a distance far enough for her to realize that the tension still brewed between them.

"I say she _should_ ," the silver car griped. "Do you really want to argue this?"

"What do you want to do with her?"

"Can't I give the little lady a ride?"

"Jazz…" Ratchet warned from behind, clearly in no mood to dawdle. "Now," the ambulance intoned, not nearly as invested in the bickering to feel any obligation to intervene.

"I heard you the first time, Ratch," said the car, irately, throwing himself into reverse and position his front directly at her, beeping insistently. "Chop chop, sweet thang. Now's not the time to argue."

"Captain Lennox..?" She faced the man, conflicted, as he turned her with a stern eye and she questioned why she may have looked to him for permission in the first place.

"Just go," he ordered gruffly, turning away. Relent.

She was disappointed he was letting her off without a fight. did he think her expendable? Not worth it?

"You don't trust the aliens but you're letting me go?" she asked his back.

"I _don't_ trust them." Captain Lennox agreed, stopping momentarily but refusing to face her. "And neither do I trust you."

That stung.

"You're better in their hands than mine," he said, "After all, you know more about this than I'm fooled to believe - at this point you have me at a disadvantage." If there was more on his mind, the Captain knew he didn't have enough time to voice it. She watched him climb into the S7 vehicle without another word.

The solid surface of Jazz's bumper nudged the back of her knees. She eyed the silver vehicle warily.

"Get in." Jazz chirped as the driver's side of the door swung wide.


	5. Ambitious

Chapter Four: Ambitious

 **Mars, 10:15 PM**

 _Jazz cross-indexed the nearest planetary system._

 _He landed on a dusty, crusty planet whose surface consisted of volcanic rock, a solid core composed of iron, nickel, and sulfur, etcetera, etcetera, - a gigabyte of information that he'd have to purge later. Surveying the land as Ratchet recommended hadn't quelled his impatience, despite the medic's haughty insistence that it would. There were no signs of life, his scans detected nothing related to the Cube, no evidence that a civilization had lived, thrived, and died here - only sad, boring facts of empty, slag of a planet._

 _Optimus could give the order to set course for Earth at any time and he would be more than ready to get off this rock._

 _He almost hated Bumblebee for getting first dibs._

 _Ever since their leader had responded to the Allspark signature, Ratchet and himself had traced the signal to a system who the newfound inhabitants called "Sol". An odd name, but even more were the humans the Autobots had observed by intercepting their global broadcast system. Surprising to all of them, they turned out to exhibit loosely Cybertronian bodies (minus sturdy exoskeleton plus a complex organic makeup). While he couldn't speak for his squadmates, Jazz was so enthralled that with every breem that passed not spent on Earth, he felt his spark cough in retaliation._

 _A pebble clanged against his helm and he swivelled his torso around._

 _He pinned a chilling glare on the Weapons Specialist._

 _"What?" Ironhide implored gruffly._

 _"Don'tchu 'what' me." Jazz growled, "Ya lookin to fight? I'll take your corroding aft down - servos up - What? You bailin on me 'Hide? Yeah, yeah, I thought so-"_

 _A loud crash resonated throughout the empty air of the red planet. Jazz found himself flattened to the ground and Ironhide's knee servos digging into his axle._

 _"Indeed, you have brought this corroding aft down...on yourself," Ironhide huffed, tuning out his audios at Jazz's noisy protests._

 _A shadow fell on them both, blocking the Sun that sustained the planet. They simultaneously looked up._

 _An eyebrow ridge was raised on their leader's normally passive face. "Ironhide, I wouldn't recommend inciting Jazz further. He's developed a penchant for acting in ways that could jeopardize his safety. "_

 _"Jeopardize my - WHAT?" Jazz cried. "After all the vorn of knowing me, have I ever done anythin' to jeopardize my safety?"_

 _Prime delivered him with a doubtful look._

 _Jazz cleared his vocalizer. "I mean, have I ever done anythin ta jeopardize my safety...without good cause?"_

 _Optimus shook his helm and Ironhide laughed._

 _"Unfortunately, there is a first for everything."_

 _"I wasn't talkin to ya, frag head!" Jazz snapped._

 _"That's the spirit," Ironhide grabbed his helm in the joint of his bulky arm and grinded a closed servo into his crown. "Ever since we landed, you've acted like ant-droids have infested your cod."_

 _"Shut up!"_

 _It was all in good nature, the large mech's teasing, Jazz knew, but they were so close to the Allspark, it must've dawned on all of them that this could mean the end. To everything. Edgy couldn't even begin to describe his frayed wire endings._

 _"Prime look out!" Ironhide quickly rose from Jazz, ion cannon extracted as it pointed past their leader._

 _Following his trajectory, Optimus turned around. "Do not fire," said the taller bot, raising a placating hand. "We have encountered one of the humans' drones."_

 _Ironhide - discovering the small automaton posed no obvious threat - discarded his ion cannon, where a hand assumed form. "A rather primitive design, isn't it?" he asked, shaking off his alarm._

 _Jazz watched the rover's navigation cameras make minor positional adjustments._

 _"Humanity is yet a young race," Optimus Prime said. "Recall that our civilization took much longer before we could traverse the stars."_

 _"So, that thing...can see us? The humans can see us?" Jazz sprung off the ground and waved a servo in front of the rover's single optic. "YO."_

 _"You're not being very discreet, Jazz." Ironhide crossed his arms over his chassis. "What are we doing here anyways, Optimus? Shouldn't we be down with the other bot?"_

 _"Yeah," Jazz agreed with the mech for once. "I wanna see some humans! We've only studied them through their web. They look fraggin squishy. I wanna poke the pretty ones."_

 _"We must wait here until further confirmation from Bumblebee," Optimus refuted. "If we bombard the planet ill-prepared, it would leave room for error."_

 _"That's hardly a good enough reason," Ironhide snorted._

 _"It was without reason at all that the Decepticons started a war that left our planet in ruins. We cannot blindly impose the same fate onto another species," Optimus said and his tone brooked no argument._

 _Then, a transmission pinged all their internal comm links and Optimus ran it through security protocol before Ironhide or Jazz could contemplate on answering._

 _"Bumblebee has sent a message in regards to the Allspark," his leader said eventually. "He's found the descendant of Archibald Witwicky."_

 _Ironhide followed up immediately. "Let's get down there then! No sense in loitering on this dry wasteland, lest we want the Decepticons to make it there before we do."_

 _Optimus cast his optics skyward. The skies took an orange hue in part to the planet's high concentration of iron oxides, a stark contrast from Cybertron's empty atmosphere. Or what was left of it. Jazz only wondered what he would see if he looked up from Earth._

 _As Ironhide contacted Ratchet who was on the other side of the planet "observing", Jazz questioned the pensive look on his leader's face. Although he'd never admit this to him, the mech's reservedness left much to be desired, but Jazz knew no matter what the situation, he could never change Optimus to voice his worries freely unless directly asked._

 _"What's up, OP?"_

 _The Prime bowed his helm to look at him. "I am afraid they might already have."_

XXX

 **Mission City, Nevada 1:20 PM**

Jazz vented in relief once he gained some speed, passing Ratchet and the human convoy. His gauges measured he was well beyond the legal speed limit of the roadway - 100 miles per hour more to be exact - though that fact didn't dwell on his conscience for long.

Once at a considerable distance from the Allspark, he'd taken that time to examine the female sitting in him.

"So…" he started, "Whatcha go by?"

He heard the patter of her little heart quicken deep under the tissue surrounding it. Her body constantly emitted heat and he thought that if it weren't for that delicate beating organ she would go as cold as the storages in Kaon that were now barren and decaying on Cybertron.

Jazz steeled himself away from those disheartening memories.

"LYN-two-trial-seven-Reconnoiter-Four," she answered.

Jazz tried to let that sink in, but to no avail.

"Riiiiight," he said. "So, it's 'Lyn'?"

The female acquiesced with a firm nod of her head.

"Alright then. Here's the deal - d'you know you got ultrawideband signals comin' off you?"

Her dark organic optics widened. "How do you know?"

"Honey - you've been on my radar for the last hour. I can feel you from miles away." Jazz detected her body spike in temperature and he logged the strange reaction in his memory to research later. "You're not like the rest of them, you know? You have somethin' up in your head and you know it. What're you, like some government weapon? Experiment?"

It wouldn't surprise him if he was remotely correct but, when she didn't respond, Jazz laughed. "And they say look out for the quiet ones. It don't matter now. You and I are gonna fix this."

"What is "Optimus" like?" Lyn asked, genuine curiosity lined her question.

Jazz quieted some. "Best mech I've worked under for the last several millennia kickin' some good Decepticon aft." Whenever the topic of his leader arose, he tried not to get too carried away as there were a great many things that he could say about Optimus Prime and he could go on about him for longer than all of Lyn's waking days combined. "He's the only mech I trust to get us out of this pit."

"He sounds like a good guy," she said quietly.

"Too good, actually. You get to know him, you'd call him a…." Jazz briefly searched through Earth's web for the right word. "... a saint."

"And this war? What side are you fighting?"

"The side that doesn't want to see your people blasted off the face of this rock. And this war," Jazz said, "Don't hurt yourself with these numbers but I've been fightin' with the Autobots for nineteen thousand seven years your time."

"That's a long time. I-uh…" Lyn's voice faded, as though she was unsure of how to communicate the newfound knowledge so Jazz let her be.

He was just reaching the outskirts of Mission City, spotting the urban sprawl against blue skyline. Jazz drove off the ramp that exited into the city and cruised the streets for ten minutes, keeping mind of those humans who'd carelessly step into the road. The comm line had been disturbingly absent of Optimus Prime's voice and Jazz had a horrible habit of incessantly worrying for the mech that it was nearly impossible for him to think of anything else.

He remembered the timid and earnest historian he found in the Halls of Iacon all those vorns ago. His easy likeability. They'd made fast friends, not unlike all those slaggers who'd use their sizable reputations to buy his kindness. No words could describe his distraught if he lost the mech today.

Small hands seized his steering wheel and jerked it to the left to redirect him to the center of the road he strayed to the edge of.

"Hey!" Lyn hissed. "I know our rules for driving can be constraining but please don't run over the pedestrians."

The female snapped him out of his trance just in time as he threw himself back in reverse to avoid the incoming missile that exploded in front of him. Lyn shrieked. The flames licking his hood indicated just how close he was to losing his aft and he cursed his absent-mindedness because, this time, he could have lost the little human too. As his steering wheel cranked to the left and Jazz veered into a street, he barely detected a police car screech to a stop, just inches from hitting him.

He followed the progress of a helicopter thundering daringly low in the street circling back to their position. Out of instinct, the female ducked in his seat.

"Slaggin spark of a glitch." His vocalizer dropped low to a growl. Most Decepticons he didn't care to distinguish individually, but this one Jazz knew inadvertently well. It was Blackout, armed to the denta even in his alt mode. Every one of his wires vibrated with fury and he wouldn't have hesitated transforming into his protoform if he knew it wouldn't endanger Lyn. Reluctantly, Jazz pulled back his urges and burned rubber as he sped down the street.

After passing through an intersection, three police cars tailed after him with their sirens blaring.

"I think you ignored a red light," Lyn stated.

"That's the least our problems, sweet thang." Jazz countered. To his left, he spotted a familiar black truck slalom down the street. "A-Ha! 'Bout damn time!" he shouted. Panels on Ironhide's roof slid out and before long his alt mode rolled out and he stood in his protoform, poised with two canons, ends glowing in a dangerous orange.

The three police cars swerved aside to avoid the massive black mech that fired at Blackout. Ironhide took successful aim at the tail rotor and the blades blazed with fire. Tilting to the right unevenly, the aircraft crashed into the side of a building and cracked the road with its fall.

The crackle of gunfire reached his audials as the human police officers exited their vehicles and shot at Jazz behind the covers of their doors.

"You humans are really bad at this," Jazz groaned, displeased at the incoming bullets deflecting off his hood like hail.

"What do you mean?" Lyn asked.

He didn't answer her as his radio brayed with the voice of the Weapons Specialist. "Should I exterminate them, Jazz?"

"No!" Jazz barked. "Remember? Optimus said not to harm any humans." _No matter how infuriating these monkeys can be_ , he added silently.

"They're bothersome. Ironhide out." was the reply before the hulking mech transformed into his alt-form and sped away.

"Oh no," Jazz murmured suddenly, rolling past. "Primus help her."

He felt Lyn's warm fingers press against the windshield in curiosity and he regretted saying anything. At the sight of the mangled body of a woman face down unmoving in a divot, her hand yanked at his locked door handle with a force that he hadn't expected her small body to possess though his door hadn't budged.

"Let me go," she said.

"Can't do that."

"Why the hell not?" Her entire body shook. No amount of anger could veil the despair in her voice. "Why?" she demanded.

"Yer too important to be runnin rampant on the streets."

"Important how?"

Jazz swerved so fast she clutched at his seat, blunt fingernails digging into the material under her.

"Yer on their radar too, hulkin around the same signatures as the Cube," he explained hastily. "So as long as the Decepticons think I got it, the real one can be delivered to Optimus Prime."

Her mouth hung open for two seconds before a growl ripped out of her throat. "You're using me as bait? That's not what I'm meant for!"

He expected that. And now, he felt bad but he only thought this would buy Optimus Prime time and divert the attention of the Decepticons off of him.

"Hey, do you want to end this war or not?" he snapped and was satisfied to feel her body lose its tension.

"I do want to end this war," she echoed sadly. The resignation in her voice instantly reminded him of Orion Pax, who'd reacted similarly when he was bestowed the most crucial position of the war. A position he didn't want.

"Nothing's gonna happen to you," he assured but it hadn't eased the creases on her forehead. "Hold on, " he alerted her. Jazz charged through a boulevard, deflecting the explosions that dropped on his sides from a Decepticon jet rocketing after him. For a moment, he thought he recognized his signature.

Lyn cautiously peered out and thrust a finger to the front window. "Watch out!"

Out of nowhere, a metallic foot dropped on his hood, crushing his engine. His electronic cry split his audials just as metal talons dug into his frame and his roof was ripped out of its welds. His pain coupled with fear rendered him completely powerless and he watched helplessly as Megatron vaulted Lyn into the air. The velocity of energon pulsing through his cables hit zero at her scream.

"An insect?" The question spewed guttural offense. "I may let you live if you show me my Cube."

"I don't know." Jazz heard her whimper and he felt a flash of anger in his processor.

"Don't be coy with me," the Decepticon leader growled.

"Let go of her, you rusted bucket head!" Jazz cried defiantly. Not that words would ever stop the power hungry lunatic but that didn't excuse Jazz from doing nothing. He had to at least buy her time. Even if it meant postponing the inevitable. "That's right you cauterized scrap heap!"

Megatron's red glare blazed with condescending amusement. "Silence yourself."

The colossus stomped his pede again on his hood to worsen the dent and Jazz snarled in agony. Megatron's weight pinned him to the asphalt and the impact had lodged his arm further into its joint than was designed. Sensors were alerting him, set off by the obvious injuries he was suffering, but he couldn't tend to them even if he tried.

"Speak!" Megatron bellowed at the human.

Just a little bit more Jazz hated himself for not being able to do anything as Lyn was shaken so roughly in Megatron's grasp, she could've passed for a rag doll. Any more force and she would just be another life he failed in this war.

Humans scattered around the scene in mass hysteria, fleeing from the hulking Decepticon and the Autobot's hopes dwindled when none of them had thought twice to help the female in Megatron's clutches.

Then, there was an anguished roar as Megatron's grip slackened and he'd staggered off of Jazz in outrage. Every gigantic step caused tremors to run through the Earth. Lyn was dropped unceremoniously in his front seat and his spark flickered with relief despite hearing her pained groan as she struggled to right herself.

"Jazz…" she said frightened. "You're-"

He gnashed his denta. "I'm fine." The lie felt bitter on his glossa. He was trying to dismiss the red dot flashing in the corner of his scans by disabling his pain receptors. His back wheels were untouched, but he knew he could only travel so far with a leak to his punctured fuel tank that directly supplied his power plant. Without medical attention soon, he'd be a goner, but that was just a minor concern as the little human pushed forward to the forefront of his thoughts. Whatever Megatron's reason were for sparing Lyn, it had been an enormous stroke of luck as far as Jazz was concerned.

He realized he could use this time to-

"You've meddled enough, human," the sinister voice grated against Jazz's sore audials.

With one arm rendered immobile, swinging limply, Megatron morphed his other limb into a massive gun and Jazz could feel the heat at the end of his barrel. The terror the mech imposed shook Jazz from his injuries and pushed him out of speechlessness.

"Run, Lyn," he said. But much to his dismay, she refused to move from him, her palms gripping the inside of his interior. If she didn't scram then they would both be doomed.

"Not today, Megatron."

He heard the low voice before he saw the form that it came from. Red and blue flashed across his vision and the collision that met Megatron had finally provoked Lyn to jump out of his seat and run for the safety of the buildings.

He hoped no one would find her.

With a frustrated growl, Megatron backflipped, transforming into his alt form and taking withdrawal to the skies. The sound of his retreating jets was the only indication that Jazz was saved. For now.

"Jazz…Get up Jazz." The plea nearly broke him.

Jazz ran a brief diagnostic on his vertical stabilizers. His legs that were tucked inside his alt form were breached and he wanted so badly to do as his commander ordered. "I...can't transform, Optimus…" Jazz wheezed.

His leader vented heavily and stooped down with a forlorn look on his face. "You are foolish."

As much as he wanted to bicker with the mech the time they were allotted was beginning to thin. They were in the middle of a war, after all.

"You ain't got nothin on me…" He couldn't keep the smirk from dripping into his vocalizer. "Old friend."


	6. War

Chapter Five: War

 **Mission City, Nevada 2:01 PM**

She scampered between the narrow space of the buildings. Nothing in her conscience upheld her decision of fleeing but her basest instinct, one that may have been embedded deep in her biology, told her she had to run. She had to escape. She had to survive. So she thought of nothing else.

Except-

That Jazz's electronic scream would haunt her as she slept.

She kept a curled fist to her chest as she ran. Her palm still burned where she'd touched Megatron through a crack on his wrist joint where the armor didn't meet. And it had left her inexplicably drained. Her swollen hand was bloody and creating blossoms of red stains on her shirt, but she couldn't spare the brain space to care.

Darting to the opposite side of the street, Lyn stumbled to the ground, scraping her unscorched palm as she scrambled into the nearest building for shelter. Jumping through the broken window of a deserted shop, she saw over her shoulder the debris and dust polluting the city streets and most importantly she noted its emptiness. With no sign of other people, she prayed that they had all fled to safety, knowing a fly had a better chance at survival than they did in all this chaos.

Her breaths too stubborn to stop burning her lungs at every inhale, she bent forward with her hands on her knees heaving air desperately. She could not remember a time she ran this hard in her life.

When the maelstrom seemingly abated, her dirty, sore hands found purchase on the edge of a flimsy shelf and flung it aside, hearing the contents clatter with morbid satisfaction.

Since waking up, since learning about the arrival of aliens, Lyn crumbled to the ground in a heap and released a tearless sob. Thoughts reeled back and forth. If what Jazz had said was true, then the aliens would find her soon if she lingered too long in this place - that's if she wanted to kiss her ass goodbye and she had no intention of dying. But, she was so tired - despite being unconscious for several months or at least she assumed was several months. A damn shame. Goes to show, Captain Lennox was wrong because Lyn didn't know more than she let on. Being extremely calm when explained a situation, didn't mean you had the situation handled; if only he had differentiated between the two, then she wouldn't be in the position he insisted.

She felt herself being lulled by the quiet in the store, her heavy breaths losing its harshness as her body momentarily surrendered to the fatigue her contact with Megatron had caused.

Then, she snapped them back open and her limbs jolted awake at the high pitch of Jazz's whine resounding off the walls of her skull.

 _Jazz_.

Lyn crouched low to the ground, gripped by the fear of being spotted. She tried to let her mind build itself around her and block out the distant explosions and gunfire reigning havoc in the city as it would only distract her from formulating a plan.

Not that she had one.

So far, running like a loon around the city was the most reliable source of action. She spent much of her career facing many challenges, but this was a far cry from what she had ever dealt with.

Then there was Megatron. The wool over her eyes had lifted the moment she recognized that face of jagged metal through the tear in Jazz's roof. Lyn never knew fear until that very moment as she had stared into those hellish red eyes, acutely aware of the cold metal of his claws sinking into the skin of her waist.

 _You're an idiot._

NBE-1 was a great safe without a lock, a spectacle of technology in every sense of the word. She spent nearly three years marveling the alien now only to fear it, to fear the nightmare that heralded destruction on humanity. All her wonder and admiration had dissolved into disappointment and she felt stupid for having not heeded Captain Lennox's warning with more alarm.

His men had accused her of shepherding an alien war to Earth.

 _No._

She tore herself away from that thought.

 _This isn't my fault._

If anyone was to be placed at the stake it should be Megatron. She would never imperil mankind, her own world. Denial seared the forefront of her mind, possessing all her thoughts with reckless abandon. Lyn gathered herself from the ground.

 _I'll fix this Jazz._

She couldn't explain why the alien who had tried to exploit her - put her in danger, most of all - invaded her thoughts with unyielding permanence. Maybe she'd developed a deep sense of compassion for the alien after Megatron bushwhacked them. Or maybe she saw Jazz's intentions not as a means of endangering Lyn but to protect her. Any alien hell bent on finding the Cube would surely kill her once they discovered she didn't have it. Maybe Lennox was right: she was better in the aliens' hands than his. The aliens knew this war better than she or the captain did.

 _Damn aliens_.

Purpose renewed her veins, inserting an amount of adrenaline that urged her to jump out of the store.

A loud clang echoed behind her and she spun around in terror as her eyes crawled up to view an alien that had an instant to see her startled face. Then the thing stood, massive, tall, taller than her and said, "How disappointing. A fleshling is in its place."

The balls of Lyn's bare feet dug into the concrete, giving her traction as she bolted into a narrow alleyway created by two large corporate buildings.

"So pathetic," the alien said, the sound of its steps a clear indication that she wasn't making much progress in regards to escaping. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the alien and it was with immense relief that she realized it didn't make any further advances because the space was simply too small.

She wiped her mouth. "Go to hell, you son of a bitch."

Her sneer dropped when it raised its arm, emitting buzzing noises as though booting up a machine. By the time she realized she had nowhere to go, Lyn could nearly see the other side of the street from a hole that sizzled on the alien's shoulder. The alien looked down at the newfound wound outraged but too long it took to turn around before a giant metal hand hooked onto the top of its head and slung the robot back.

She recognized the bright yellow and chrome paint as the ambulance turned robot swung punches at the alien, relentless in its assault.

"Get to safety!" Ratchet boomed, the command carried to her ears instantly over the crash of metal. It took her just a moment to understand that he directed the order at her. "Towards the green smoke girl!" He yelled before the alien beneath him blasted its thrusters and threw Ratchet off.

Lyn made haste, bailing out of the alleyway onto the opposite side. She whipped her head around and spotted a green cloud billowing out as it caught wind and sprinted for it when a thought arrived to her. What did she think she was doing? Ratchet had told her to go towards the green smoke and he had also told her to get to safety. A humorless laugh bubbled from her throat. Where at a time like this was considered safe?

If she were a decoy, as Jazz intended, then shouldn't she be running away from safety - away from the Cube?

The unmistakable boom of a tank overtook the clamor of her thoughts.

She slowed and pressed her body against a column of a clinic located at an intersection. The Red Cross pasted on the building failed to give her the relief the symbol was intended to deliver. A hotel across had large windows on the first floor. Her attention floated to it because she could spot the activity from its reflection. A hateful orange alit an upside down taxi and crouched behind it was Captain Lennox, expression unreadable under the grime that covered him. She saw him insert a clip into his rifle, grip it vigorously in both hands, and open fire over the heads of his cowering men at the tawny tank several hundred yards away.

Shouted commands echoed from every corner of the street. Then a sharp whistle cut through the air and almost immediately the first floor of the building opposite from her burst into flames, sending glass flying. Projectiles fired into the solid face of the structure and large cement chunks fell just shy of crushing her as she dove to the ground.

Her eardrums rang painfully, only intensified by shouting and the tortured screams of a man flailing on the road, his clothes on fire. Lyn scurried over to him to pat the flames down when a scent strangled the breath out of her throat.

She could smell the face of his flesh fry like burning raw sewage and she recoiled. The stranger stopped asudden, his jaw slack in a silent scream and the skin from his forehead to the collar of his charred shirt was worse than her burnt palm - and all that held her gaze were the whites of his glassy eyes. Lyn's throat swelled with tears because she knew she couldn't do anything. On his breast, there pinned a name tag and she looked away quickly, refusing to know the name of a dead man. Lyn shot up and fled. Disgusted with herself.

She made headwind to the captain's position. His team kept chopping the entire street with automatic fire until their rifles were fired dry before the moment hushed to the sounds of them reloading mags.

Lyn kneeled at his side. "Captain Lennox!" she called and he turned to her with a wild gaze and scowled.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked, bewildered.

"I've come to help."

"Well we could really use your alien friend right now!" He leaned against the car and scrunched his eyes shut in reaction to an explosion. "Now would be a good time for the tide to wash these bastards over!"

"Jazz is down," she answered.

"Damnit!" he shouted and tossed a hasty look over his shoulder. "Hey, Epps! Any contact?"

"Nega-fucking-tory Captain!" The sergeant shouted his throat raw from nearby.

Captain Lennox's fist smashed into the taxi door so hard it dented. Lyn watched his face, seeing the cogs turn behind it, considering another avenue of attack. "You said you carried around a signal that drew them into Earth?" He asked her. "You think you can activate it now and divert them?"

"The signal has been on." She said before his face fell and fixed into a grimace. "Who has the Cube?"

Confused by the spontaneity of her question, Captain Lennox shook his head and yelled, "Sam Witwicky!" as though the answer was commonplace.

"Who?"

"The kid!" Captain Lennox roared over the noisy chatter of gunfire, but she still didn't have a chance in hell of comprehending. "We have a chopper coming in to evacuate it and he's taking the Cube to the drop off zone. Those are the orders!"

"But the Autobots need it!" Their screaming fest was almost loud enough to drown out the mayhem blasting in the background.

"It doesn't matter who gets the damn thing first!" He hurled an angry look at her and she flinched back in shame at his exclamation. "We need to have it gone." Both their gazes suddenly shot up to the sky as jets ripped the sound barrier over their heads. Captain Lennox's next words were those of borderline hysteria.

"GET OUT OF HERE!"

Her shoulder could have ripped out of its socket with the force that the man had used to yank her body under the cover provided by the overhang of the building. She saw his men retreat to the edges of the street in a quarter of a second before fragments of blazing metal asteroided towards the ground and slammed into the spot she and Lennox were previously sitting in.

"Sound off!" Captain Lennox screamed.

His men had responded with yips and howls within the cloud of smoke that plumed from the parts of the jet. No actual noises of agony or injury echoed back and the man's taut jaw somewhat loosened.

"Everyone accounted for Captain!" Lieutenant Figueroa emerged from the smog, squatted beside the man then ticked his chin at the girl. "What's she doing here?"

Attention too entrenched in the urgency of their situation, Captain Lennox yelled, "We need to fall back!"

"INCOMING!" Sergeant Epps howled but it was too late for Captain Lennox to pull Lyn back as he did the first time. The center of the street blasted and a mushroom of detritus flew out in all directions. Two hands harshly shoved Lyn to the ground and out of the trajectory of a propelled chunk of cement that collided with the adjacent wall.

"Fall back!"

The voice, distinctly Captain Lennox's, could have come from anywhere in the scatter of gray particles floating in the air. Even though it had cloaked everything within a twenty meter radius, she could see a massive swathe of fire on the street from the silhouette of the flames reflecting off the dust. Naturally, Lyn did the only thing she could: she ran and abandoned her search of finding Captain Lennox. Her heart surged and her blood shrieked in terror as she ran blindly until she was far enough away that her vision was relatively clear.

Thinking nothing now but survival, she barged into the nearest building for shelter, fooling herself into thinking that a few feet of cement could mask her transmission if only for a little while so that she could catch her breath. From what she could see through the gloom of the building, the interior was undergoing reconstruction, plastic and pipes marked the areas of attention. She climbed a few steps up the marble staircase before she stopped.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She turned around slowly to meet someone who looked as raddled as she probably did.

"You-your-y-your that girl," he said, as an object tucked under his armpit gleamed.

She dissected the individual in front of her, from his sweat drenched hair to the block of metal he held and nodded to herself. Lyn instantly recognized him as one of the two teenagers leaving the Camaro from earlier.

So, this was Sam Witwicky. Her eyes flitted downwards. And that was NBE-2, much smaller than she remembered it.

She ignored his claim without a second thought and turned to leave the building when she stiffened at the hand that latched onto her arm.

"Wait!"

"Let go of me," she warned, every muscle in her arm tensing at his touch.

He obeyed.

"P-Please, I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm supposed to go." He pleaded and she felt her shoulders drop. "Lennox said that I have to meet with a helicopter at the roof of this building and extract the Cube from the city...but...but..."

Lyn huffed then counted the flights of stairs. At least eighteen, if not more. If Sam intended to climb up there for safety, she had to convince him otherwise. Tops of buildings, while wise vantage points, were not safe places considering they were dealing with aliens that could turn into helicopters and airplanes too. What was Captain Lennox thinking?

Oh wait. Right. _Those are orders_ , he had said. She was quite familiar with that excuse.

She looked at Sam and her heart clenched madly under her ribcage. There was something to be said when kids as young as sixteen were doing the dirty work in a war. She should've been running as she had been for the past however many hours, all to give this boy and that Cube time.

 _So as long as the Decepticons think I've got it, the real one can be delivered to Optimus,_ her alien companion had said _._ Jazz was injured now or even dead because of his plan. But, it was a legitimate one she would admit. Regardless, however, Sam was just a kid and she would be damned if she turned the other cheek so that he carried out his suicide stunt.

"You can't do that," Lyn insisted. "They'll only just follow you. You should be out on the streets."

"That's not what my parents would say," Sam said and cleared his throat at her glare. "Then what?" Conflict flooded Sam's face. She almost felt sorry for him; _he was only just a kid_ , she was reminded again.

She rested her injured hand on the Cube and the other on his shoulder in a gesture of good faith. "Then you find Op-"

Her words faltered and died in her throat when her implant hummed as though the microarray encountered a live wire. There was an echo to the hum, the wavelengths of the sound intensified to the point of reverberating through her skull and gnawed around the edges, dredging up from the depths of all that she was.

 _You are Female. Human._

There was no number to give to the sequence of inharmonious voices. They sounded warped and spoken from far, far away and it chilled her blood. She was torn between ruling out the voice as a random instance of her vivid imagination or an intruder infringing the sanctity of her mind and speaking to her telepathically. Either way, both ideas sounded absurd. Experiencing hallucinations was never a good sign but it was a good way to gamble with your life in the midst of war.

 _You cannot reverse what has been wrought._

Those same voices, speaking hauntingly through a spiraling medium reverberated only within her mind. Unconsciously, her fingers pressed harder into the chiselling, tentatively adjusting to the oddly dull surface. Rings of soft thin light wrapped around her wrist, ghosting over her forearm, before evaporating. If Sam had seen it, he gave no indication. Unknown to her, tendrils of energy arced into the cuts of her palm spiraling up the nervous system to the chip lodged in her cerebrum.

 _Preserve the Cube._

Sudden doubt inhibited her as she removed her hand and stumbled back to distance herself. Her hand had burned where she touched the artifact, wisps of smoke rising to her nostrils. The smell should have possessed her to respond in shocking agony but her mind was too caught up in listening to the building shake and the whispers of disembodied voices becoming soft.

"Optimus...Optimus…" she hadn't realized she was muttering the name until Sam's voice pierced through her trance.

"I don't even know where he is."

"It doesn't matter. If we stay in one place, we can draw him to us." Lyn shook off the tension in her body that felt like thick air, cloying at her, clawing at her, slowing her down. Shaking off the strange occurrence in her mind as though it hadn't happened.

And it probably didn't. Couldn't. She wasn't losing her mind just yet.

"Are you afraid?" She stared at him as a distraction to set her thoughts straight.

Sam looked embarrassed. "I could use a toilet."

 _Preserve the Cube._

The command rang in her ears again and though it had only spurred an onslaught of questions she instinctively raised her head. A steady glance to the extravagant stained glass window to her left and she saw a shadow looming, the sunlight outlining its towering form. A halo around a monster spawned from Hell.

"Megatron," she said despairingly, loud enough for Sam to hear her, before the window shattered as a metal arm punctured through it. The staircase quaked.

"Is it fear or courage that compels you humans?" Megatron's voice grated the silence of the building.

Losing her balance, Lyn tumbled down and her jaw split against the corner of the last step. A groan couldn't even escape her as a hand hooked under her armpit and boosted her up while a fountain of blood flowed down the front of her shirt.

"Come on!" Sam cried into her ear. The blood rushing to her head took precedence over her sense of direction. The howl of rage they both heard urged Sam to tug on her arm harder, leading them both out of the entrance and onto the street.

Blinking rapidly, Lyn looked down at her feet smelling iron, then she lifted her chin to a sorely banged up car approaching them, the frame not quite level on its axle as it drove over the craggy road. The passenger doors opened with a creak. "Get in," came the electronic rasp that both Sam and Lyn failed to deny.

Once seated in the front seat, Lyn said, "I'm sorry Jazz." Her voice too thick to withhold her ruth.

"Don't need to be hard on yourself, sweet thang." Jazz crowed weakly, rolling forward at a surprising speed she didn't think the poor car was still capable of. "I've had worst aft kickins."

The tender moment moldered under the titanic roar of Megatron erupting behind them. Lyn watched in amazement as two mechs crashed into the street, wrestling each other to the ground.

"You still fight for the weak!" Megatron landed a solid punch that dented a metal chest. "That is why you lose!" Gripping the shoulders of a familiar red and blue mech, Megatron slammed him into the nearest building and let him fall.

"Fraggin pit," Jazz shouted, "Boss is in trouble!"

Those words generated Lyn and Sam's shock as they stared at Jazz's fallen leader that the little alien was so confident would bring an end to this. Watching the leader struggle against Megatron, however, dampened Lyn's hopes. But, that was Optimus Prime - right there - and the Cube was right -

As though sensing the retreating car, the colossus whipped its head like a dog sniffing out prey and raged on toward them, arm extended as massive fingers clamped onto the bumper, halting Jazz even as his back tires spun. At Jazz's immediate command to get out, both Sam and Lyn dropped from the sides.

For Lyn, she landed and rolled onto her stomach when a huge fist slammed next to her, causing specks of rock to rain down like hail.

"Filth!" Megatron raised his fist to strike her and Lyn's body shirked out of the way. "Disgusting!" The hand came down and shook the ground under her. If he had hit any harder, the ground would've opened up and swallowed her whole. "I will enjoy crushing you for making a fool out of me!" Apparently, what she had done upon first meeting Megatron, both the monster's arms were up and functional now.

Jazz reversed into Megatron's shins. "That's for my paint job, man!"

Megatron - the thirty ton colussus of metal - collapsed and crashed into the ground.

The less hulky of the two mechs, with flames designing his arms, returned, swinging his leg in a low arc beneath Megatron. His foot cut the air before making contact with his opponent's torso, whilst his hand retracted and a scarlet sword emerged slicing across Megatron's face, where an ugly gash scarred metal.

"Restrict Attack. Got enemies mixed with friendlies. Targets will be marked!" Lyn heard Sergeant Epps holler into the radio, and stowed it somewhere important in the front of her mind. She saw two military vehicles from an adjacent street but hardly felt relieved to see Captain Lennox's men alive.

By the time she could even regain awareness of Sam and the Cube, they had left her sight. So she turned and ran.

Xxxx

 **Mission City, Nevada 4:01 PM**

"Restrict Attack. Got enemies mixed with friendlies . Targets will be marked!"

Sergeant Epps yelled as Sam dodged past two combative robots, tripping into a trench, before Optimus Prime collapsed where he had just stood. The teenager had long established that metal smashing together was not just the sound of some junkyard riot. A layer of sweat across his brow ran down the side of his face. He had no urge to wipe it down if it meant a hand would be off the Cube.

"Sam."

At his name, the teenager looked up to see the war-weary mech staring at him.

"I-I have the Cube!" Sam declared, lifting the object up.

Optimus Prime shook his head and all of Sam's faith plummeted. "Should this fight persist, you must push the Cube into my chest."

"W-what will that do?" Sam wavered. He did not like the sound of that. Despite the lingering premonition, he hoped this Optimus Prime would say that the Cube had some hidden power that can defeat the big alien, Megatron. Like in all of those Hollywood blockbusters where the hero prevailed. Happy endings. Hooray. Roll credits and cue epic soundtrack.

However, the mech offered the boy no respite. "I will sacrifice myself to destroy the Cube, so that Megatron will not exploit its power and throw mankind into extinction."

Not exactly what Sam wanted to hear.

XXXX

 **Mission City, Nevada 4:09 PM**

She was running aimlessly through the streets trying to find Sam and the Cube, and her search proved fruitless. All she wanted was to ensure the boy was safe, with the artifact in Optimus Prime's hands. Then, this would be over. And no one could blame her for not trying.

A head peeking over the lip of a ditch spotted Lyn before she could acknowledge the boy darting out of a trench and running into her side.

"Get down!" Arms wrapped around her stomach, pulling her to the ground. They both landed in a ditch, the aqueduct having burst and spitting water all over them.

"Where did you go!?" She picked herself up, glaring.

"Listen to me!" He shouted. She didn't have to tell him he already had her ear. "Optimus Prime's taking a beating. He said If he can't beat Megatron then the Cube needs to be destroyed."

"How the hell did you find the time to have this conversation with him?"

"That doesn't matter!"

Lyn wrinkled her brow as Sam started climbing out of the ditch. "Where are you going?"

"The only way to destroy the Cube is to merge its power with Optimus Prime. It will destroy them both."

"But if Megatron lives we're doomed anyway!" Lyn shouted, tugging him back. Wasn't the Cube supposed to be an all powerful life source? The God of all alien robots? Why would Optimus destroy it unless the Cube could kill all the aliens like a motherboard? The real threat wasn't NBE-2, the Cube, the Allspark, whatever the hell it was. The real threat was Megatron. "You're just gonna hurt yourself!"

"Then I'll use it to destroy Megatron!" Sam, overdone with the chaos, shoved Lyn away from him. "No sacrifice, no victory!"

 _Preserve the Cube._

The idea of using something that created life to destroy life seemed implausible. Maybe that's what her mind was telling her all along. There was no guarantee that it could be that easy and nothing about Sam's plan sat well with her. She couldn't be freed of the pounding anxiety in her head and it kept coming back with a force that refused to simply let Sam go. Something about it didn't feel right. She had to preserve the Cube.

So, when she moved to stop him again, she had every intention of making sure he wouldn't push her back.

His back was to her when her hands anchored onto his shoulder and jerked him around to face her. Pain blossomed throughout Lyn's knuckles as her fist met Sam's nose.

"No hard feelings, " she said, yanking the Cube out of his arms then jumped out of the ditch, running like hell for Megatron. Or, perhaps, running towards hell itself.

She thundered past the gunshots, unperturbed as one whined her ear. Her mind had trouble wrapping itself around the sights and sounds. Either her blunt ignorance shielded her from danger or she was just too confident in her actions. Sam screamed at her to come back and yet she forged through the street. The noises temporarily made her forget she was terrified of Megatron.

And then time crystallized.

Lyn dodged between damaged vehicles. She panted hard, thighs long enduring the burn of running around the entire city like a crazed lunatic.

Megatron saw her first and that red glare almost stilled every nerve in her body, pinning her like a bug on display. She could feel the hate scorching her skin. Blood trickled down her neck from the gash at the corner of her jaw. The corners of her eyes wrinkled as she focused hard on the massive alien, unaware of the electric blue gaze pinned on her running form.

Lyn screamed as she bounded for him.

"Hey! Come and take your fucking Cube!"

Her arms extended behind her ears as she hurled the Allspark over her head, catapulting the object through the air. It didn't travel far if compared to an alien's throw, though it had landed past Megatron who followed its path.

Before she could've made any more rash moves, fingers wrapped around her waist, pulling her back and she found her frame was pressed roughly against warm metal.

His obsession overcoming the benefit of forewarning, Megatron dived mindlessly into the asphalt for the Cube. His talons curled over the artifact claiming it in victory. He had won. After millions of years. He. Won. His howl of laughter told her that much. What was so wrong, however, was that he _thought_ he won.

Lyn curled further against the metal plating, palms cupping her ears for the explosions targeted on Megatron.

The F-22s whizzing ahead discharged their missiles onto the occupied Megatron, inciting an outraged cry. The ambush flooded the street in an inferno and the robotic alien was shoved into the ground, the Cube slipping from his fingers. Bereft of his senses other than that of pursuing his planet's life source, Megatron reduced to a crawl. Sabot rounds from Lennox's men punctured vital servo gears, shots spreading over an imaginary grid around the alien's body, hindering the Decepticon's movement.

For a few moments her body experienced weightlessness and she bounced off the ground, struck stiff by the red and blue metallic mass stepping over her and hurtling towards Megatron.

The distraction had granted Optimus Prime a chance to advance on Megatron, with his sword poised. When he was close enough, Prime swung his arm. A hiss came from the sharp metal as it cut through Megatron's cables with searing precision, then sliced downwards to extinguish the spark chamber that exploded from the impingement. The tyrant gave out a wet gurgle, fluids pouring from his mouth, hands clawing at his throat to staunch the flow of energon. Megatron, who could not admit defeat, in place of fear, verbalized his distraught with an angry roar until the red of his optics faded black.

The silence that fell upon the city created a reprieve amongst the soldiers who progressed near the still smoldering form of Megatron. The strength of sirens sounded and Lennox smiled for the first time after such a lengthy battle.

"You left me no choice, Brother." The Autobot leader said to the metal corpse.

Emerging from her spot in cover, Lyn stepped over the wreckage with searching eyes until she recovered the Cube,gathering it into her hands. She staggered over to the mech that defeated Megatron, unsure of what words she could offer him. He stood there almost regal. A champion amidst ruin.

Optimus Prime gazed down at her evenly.

 _Preserve the Cube._

With that last thought, Lyn dropped the block of metal at his feet.


	7. Crossing Territories

Chapter Six : Crossing Territories

 _They are cold when she wakes, the dog tags tethered around her neck. She grabs them and holds them to the light._

 _RECON SYS CAND._

 _LYN.2.T7.R4_

 _5'8" 135 LBS_

 _ASD SECTOR 7_

 _R4 clutches the metal tabs in her hand so violently, the edges bite into her palm._

XXXX

 **Mission City, Nevada 4:59 PM**

Lyn opened her hand, letting the dog tags slip back between her breasts.

A bottle of water hung in front of her face. She raised her head, tracing with her eyes up the arm to find Captain Lennox's face at the end.

"You look like you could use it," he offered.

Lyn reached out and accepted it. "Th-Thanks."

She twisted the cap off but didn't drink, instead she stared down the broken road that lead to Megatron's metal corpse.

Captain Lennox sat himself beside her on one of the cement roadblocks that prevented incoming traffic from entering the street. The aliens lingered awkwardly in the center, awaiting further direction from the authorities. It's not like they could get up and leave - someone had to explain the mess.

"You'd think this was all a dream," Captain Lennox said quietly, thumbing the dull wedding band around his finger. She didn't think he even knew he was doing it. "Any minute and I'll wake up back home."

Lyn folded her hands in her lap, looking down at them. "Trust me, I still think I'm dreaming."

"Can I ask you something?" His question was a murmur she wouldn't have heard if it weren't so quiet in the city.

Lyn glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She wasn't eager to answering any questions.

"Why did you choose this?" he asked.

She began with a scoff. Lyn didn't like how his tone implied she had much say in the matter. "I could ask you the same thing. Why put on the uniform knowing big men in suits are going to send you somewhere you're not likely to come out of alive?"

Captain Lennox shrugged. "I need to pay off college somehow."

Lyn barked a laugh and shook her head. He meant it to be funny. Her smile straightened out. But, it was serious now. "This was not a choice." She thumbed the cut on her jaw, encrusted with dried blood.

She dropped her hands into her lap. "I'll give you the short version. There was an accident and this is how I repay."

"And before that?"

She looked at him. "I really don't know," she answered, knowing it wasn't the truth.

His brow wrinkled as a crease appeared between his eyes.

Lyn gulped and ducked her head. His disapproving look had its effect on her.

"I told you the only thing keeping me alive is a microchip whose coding is based off the Cube. At the time of my death, Project Reconnoiter whose goal was to revive dead troops had been launched. I qualified as a candidate." Her finger tapped against her skull. "It's the only thing that animates me. After the accident, I was declared dead for thirty-two hours. Alot of my cells had died. I'd tell you what happened before but I'd be repeating words in a file."

At that, Captain Lennox's eyes softened.

Lyn didn't want to see that.

That pity.

"That's all there is to it," she replied stiffly. If his prodding continued, Lyn knew she would become less and less forthcoming to answering him. Then, she thought better of her quick anger. He deserved an explanation. After all, if it wasn't for him, she knew exactly where she'd be: dead.

She finally positioned the lip of the bottle between her lips and tilted her head back. After a few gulps, she bent her head forward, swiped her wrist across her mouth and leveled her eyes to his. "I never thanked you."

"Don't mention it," he said.

She stopped herself from smiling.

Then he asked, "Is that going to be a thing now? Calling you "Lyn-Recon-4-whatever?"

She shook her head and thought of Jazz.

"'Lyn' will do."

Curiosity - the good kind - swam in his blue eyes when he grinned at her.

She would've prompted him to speak his mind if sirens hadn't gone off in the distance, announcing the arrival of a convoy rolled up to the intersection. The long line of black vehicles outfitted with heavy gunnery would've been described as military but there were no outward markings that indicated they belonged to a specific branch. The convoy parked in a wide circle around the aliens and men in black poured out from them.

She recapped the water bottle and slipped off the roadblock, following Captain Lennox who was equally as drawn to the scene as she was.

The aliens murmured amongst each other in warped gibberish Lyn presumed was their language. For a flicker of a second, she caught their leader's bright blue gaze and quickly dropped her eyes to the ground with an echo thrumming in her ribcage.

Armed and dressed in black combat uniform, the first man to have exited one of the vehicles pointed at the Cube in Optimus Prime's hand. "That artifact was founded on federal soil and under civil forfeiture section three, we have an obligation to confiscate it. If you don't cooperate, we will use deadly force."

A mech standing behind Optimus stomped forth, incensed. "You hairless primates, that's our-!"

The men hiked up the muzzles of their guns, startled.

"Enough, Ironhide." His leader held back his shoulder with a steady hand just in time to stop the situation from exploding into violence. "We are guests on this planet."

The reminder served to defuse the black mech's outrage as the alien took a heavy step back.

Captain Lennox walked over to the man who greeted him with a venomous glower. "Who're you?" the guard demanded gruffly. The men he arrived with shuffled uncomfortably, barrels dipping in hesitation after distinguishing the new officer's rank.

"I'm Captain Lennox. I lead my men here to barricade the city. What are your orders soldier?"

The man shot him a vicious glare. "You don't have the clearance to know that, _soldier_ ," he spat.

Captain Lennox's lips pursed with the beginnings of an insult but stopped. He played off his anger well, resigning to silence as he stepped back.

"Thought so," the guard nodded. He turned to his men. "Pack that Cube and let's get moving." He looked up at the tallest alien. "We've been instructed to escort all of you to the nearest base. Quickly."

"Two of my Autobots are unable to accomplish long distance travel," Optimus Prime replied. "They'll need a source of tran-"

"That's fine." The guard cut him off, waving one gloved hand dismissively. "We'll have your robot buddies towed with this one," he displayed a middle finger at Megatron and focused on Prime with a dirty glare. "But, you - you're coming with us."

The man whipped his gaze around to the team surrounding him in an arc. "Get MOVING!" he ordered.

XXXX

 **Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada 10:50 PM**

In less than twenty four hours, he'd discovered humans to be an unusually expressive species. The leaders who requested his audience over live broadcast for the last five hours regarded him with pinched faces and brittle tones. He had deduced these reactions to indicate disdain and suspicion. Such blatant emotional responses on Cybertronian would be looked down upon. Ratchet would have diagnosed it to be a malfunction in the humans evolvement.

It pained him to agree.

So when they'd dismissed him back to where the rest of the Autobots were situated, Optimus was for the better that the politicians could no longer scrutinize him as though Megatron were in his place.

But, even in the company of his comrades, he had yet another problem to consolidate. Upon return, he noticed Ratchet avoiding him with obvious deflection.

Relinquishing the Cube to the humans did not please the Autobots. The unusual silence on the comm link was a telling enough sign of that and it stirred his spark uncomfortably.

Perhaps, if he and the Cube had merged as was his original plan, a potential weapon would not be in the hands of man and his soldiers would not look to him as a traitor.

His scanners alerted him of movement on the opposite end of the Hangar. When he turned, the human girl shuffled out into the open from the opposite end of the building.

"Your actions were questionable in the least," Optimus said pointedly. The human froze mid-step and turned slowly. He continued, "But, you have my gratitude for fighting beside us, Lyn."

He watched her fingers curl into fists and tremble at her sides as she stared up at him. A catalog appeared on the corner of his display suggesting possible diagnoses on her behavior.

"How do you know my name?"

"Jazz informed me of your involvement." he said, "however, I would like for us to be acquainted properly."

"Okay," she nodded.

As he began his approach, his first footstep elicited a flinch from her. "I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots." He stopped at an appropriate distance.

When she didn't respond and her jaw had fallen slack, he asked, "May I ask what has brought you here?"

"I wanted to check up on Jazz," she said guiltily. "Is he okay?"

"He's currently in maintenance mode and is…" He researched terms congruent to typical Earth dialogue. "... Unable to speak at present. Our medic is reconfiguring his systems and stabilizing him will take several weeks of recovery."

Sadness juxtaposed the guilt shown on her face. "I'm gonna guess he's seen better days."

"He has also seen worse," the leader offered gently. Though he appreciated her concern, the sentiment was unnecessary. Jazz brought about his own injuries, and Optimus expected him to explain himself once he recovered.

"Well, I'd like to speak to him at the soonest chance that he's up...I owe him my thanks."

"I can have that arranged." Optimus promised. "Jazz suspected you are part of a government project," he added quietly.

Her eyes widened minutely.

It was enough to validate Jazz's claims.

He continued . "...Which may explain your anomalous signals."

"I see," she murmured. "But they aren't very anomalous, are they?" Her voice was drawn tight.

"No." He answered, "They are genuinely alike to the Allspark's signature and it is constantly transmitting from you. Though, I wish not to interfere with your superiors' research, you should be informed that your life will always be in danger. Even as we speak, there are stray Decepticons who desire nothing but to revive their fallen commander with the Cube. They'll be lured to you in hopes of finding it."

"I don't know how to stop the signal without removing the implant in my brain," she admitted. "And removing it would mean death."

It seemed rather early for this race to combine organics with technology. He supposed they had a greater capacity of advancement than he thought - or, maybe they were paving a path towards disaster. "Why would you have a device installed at such a risk?"

She raised her shoulders slightly. "Some risks are taken without your knowing."

"I can empathize," he said.

Lyn's brows furrowed while the corners of her mouth sagged. "How did this war start?"

His optics unfocused as he relived a time from his past long ago. "On my planet Cybertron, I was initially... part of a revolution that planned to overthrow the caste system upheld by the elites of our society. However, that prospect turned dire, and what was meant to usher in a peaceful change evolved into an insurrection which tore my world in half. Thus, began the emergence of the Autobots and Decepticons."

"Civil War," she whispered.

"Not an uncommon theme to your kind."

Lyn frowned and folded her arms across her chest, leaning the majority of her weight into one pursed her lips and her eyes narrowed at him, considering the statement. "Doesn't make it any less awful." She dropped her stare. "I'm sorry about your Cube."

"It wasn't your doing."

"I'm sorry anyway," she insisted, shrugging a shoulder, then softly she added, "even though it might not mean anything now."

He opened his mouth but no words could form before she interjected.

"That's what brings life to your people, right?"

He nodded. "It was also the living core that allowed my planet to thrive and without it the option to return to our home and restore it is out of the question. However, if your people will allow it, we will stay on Earth and protect your world should any Decepticon threat arise." He paused in deliberation. "...at least until humanity has seen the Cube's uses and returns it to us."

"It shouldn't have to come down to that." Her eyes hardened with resistance. "I welcome you to Earth regardless. I mean...You truly are a remarkable race -"

The way she had said that held a pinch of irony that he felt compelled to question.

"-Who knows? You might get your cube back soon and someone might... make action figures of you for saving the world from biggest threat it's ever seen." She shrugged.

"The attention would be humbling," he said after researching the compound term "Action Figure." "But it would be best if the Autobots avoided the public at least until they are fully prepared."

Lyn nodded before her face fell suddenly, inducing a slight depression in the atmosphere. "Sam Witwicky told me you were willing to destroy the Cube," she stated openly. "By sacrificing yourself."

"In order to prevent Megatron from obtaining it," he answered.

"Did you think about what would happen should you have died and Megatron lived?" There was an accusation in her question which he was not privy to provoke. Nevertheless, Optimus decided he would entertain her.

"Megatron would have left Earth untouched," Optimus said gravely, "or he would have left it destroyed."

"That was the gamble you took with my world. I don't know, but that seems much more questionable than my actions, aren't they?" Her furious gaze threatened to scorch his outer plating.

The girl was angry, perhaps for good reason, but Optimus didn't have the energy to pacify her for hypotheticals. Therefore, he spared her no words and hoped silence would speak for him.

As he predicted, the tense crease on the skin of her forehead smoothed out.

"It's not like it matters anymore," she muttered.

Mutely, she shook her head and stared out at the white orb of the moon against the endless black of space. Her skin brightened, features alit with a pale glow and he wondered what thought had reduced her vitriol.

"For the love of Primus - if HE HAS ANY - can you tell the female to shut up?" Ironhide bellowed in the corner of the shelter. Lyn flinched at the acidity in his voice. "Some of us are trying to recharge here!"

"Ironhide." His optics narrowed at the mech rumbling in his alt mode. "Where is your spark of courtesy?" Optimus demanded.

"What he means…" Ratchet intervened behind a decommissioned jet, "...is that her signals are getting quite out of hand." From the way his faceplates were drawn into a scowl, Optimus surmised the field she was emitting agitated him too. " How can you not feel it?"

He looked down at the girl who'd blinked up at him in question.

"I have adapted to her," he asserted blatantly. Though, not entirely true. Her close proximity did interfere with his sensors, but he simply dealt with it.

The medic hummed, skeptical. "There are ways for me to mute her, if the Earthling wishes."

The girl tilted her head. "Mute me?" she repeated, concerned.

"Yes, that's what I said. Did you not hear me the first time?"

Lyn glared at his medic but merely plodded forward to meet him with a stiff posture. Whatever retort that rested on her tongue was swallowed down when she stood in front of the towering mass of his medic.

"You have my medical integrity that I wish not to cause you pain, even if there is," he said.

Lyn's mouth hung. "What?"

"The other way, girl," Ratchet instructed, drawing a swirl in the air with his finger.

She turned around despite the doubt written plainly on her face. Satisfied with her position, Ratchet summoned fiber lasers from his fingertip to dance over a two inch patch on her skull for several seconds before the beam receded. "There. Finished," he said.

She swiveled around, mildly surprised. "Thank you...uh... Ratchet," Lyn said before retreating to her spot near Optimus.

"The monkey is learning our names?" Ironhide asked. "Deplorable."

"Watch yourself," Optimus warned lightly. He knew where the mech's frustration stemmed, but Optimus didn't have the patience to tolerate the mech's rough attitude towards the girl.

"He is not usually this unpleasant." Ratchet sighed, casting a disapproving glance at the mech. "I suppose it comes with age."

"You're the oldest one here," Ironhide yelled.

"I never denied that I was," Ratchet said. "Certainly doesn't change the fact that you glitch like Chromia when her sensors hot wire after plating itch."

"Say that to my face!" Ironhide's frame shook as the side of him transformed and shot a fist into the air indignantly. A blue holographic sphere plumed out of Ratchet's hand as he waved it irately over the grumbling truck. When immediate silence followed after the limb crashed to the ground, unmoving, Optimus looked at the medic questioningly.

"He'll be fine." Ratchet assured.

"I guess that solves one thing," Lyn murmured looking up at him and Optimus saw something restoring.

The light spilled into her dark eyes like liquid and from the corners of her lips, she offered him a smile. It was a staggering sight and Optimus was suddenly conscious of the energon rushing to his spark chamber. Before he could question the odd output, her eyelids fluttered closed and she lurched to the side.

Optimus dropped to a knee and his mechanical hand captured her small body from hitting the ground. She seemed so weak as her arms clung desperately to his fingers. Her warmth melted into his armor. Then, she looked at him with her yawning stare and as though struck with sudden realization she frantically pushed off his hand. He felt a tingling sensation surging through his weaponry cables to his shoulder joint just before her touch left him. She stumbled away with the same measure of alarm as someone who had lingered too close to an open flame.

A few seconds passed as Optimus silently mused her behavior. With all stimuli considered and her reactions logged:

Trembling limbs. Rapid Heartbeat. Hypersensitivity.

He concluded that she feared him.

"Is there something wrong here?" Ratchet neared them.

Her posture straightened, small frame as rigid as a cross threaded bolt. Optimus had always known the fragility of human beings. Though seeing the female now, as she was, startled, he was reminded again of how delicate they were - and how easily they could break under the realities of war.

"I..I'm just a little light-headed," she began shakily, her form crumpled inwards as she backed away. "I have to go."

She spun on her heel and fled as quickly as possible.

"What's with her?" Ratchet asked.

Optimus shook his helm, returning to full height. He stared at his hand quizzically.

XXXX

 **Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada 11:35 PM**

 _I may let you live if you show me my Cube_

 _I don't know_

 _Don't be coy with me_

That voice would haunt her. That voice that sounded like metal rocks scraping against chalk. Lyn shook away the fear - she'd nearly lost her composure in front of Prime. She scolded herself. If she were to break down, she would do it behind closed doors.

Minutes after retreating the Hangar, Lyn found herself caught in a frenzy of human activity. She supposed she was lured by the need to be surrounded by others like her. There was nothing wrong with the Autobots. All of them meant well. But, metal and alien were two things she wasn't likely to breathe easy around any time soon.

Lyn had just entered into a separate hangar when someone crossed her path.

Her feet stopped abruptly.

"Director Banachek," she said, surprised at his appearance. The last time she saw him was when the Reconnoiter systems were recalled to Nevada. It may have only been months, but she thought he had aged for years. Behind him stood another man she recognized - not unusual for one to remember the first face they wake up to after death.

"Agent Simmons, I can't express how pleased I am to see you," she said, contrary to the bland look on her face and the flatness of her voice.

"Not likewise, honey," he sniffed.

Director Banachek cleared his throat. "Good to see you made it out okay". And now that you're awake I'll see to it that your belongings are returned to you and you find a place to...adapt to these circumstances." He grinned faintly to alleviate the thickness in the air. It did him no justice. In lieu of recent events, she couldn't say she was comfortable yet. "We've been meaning to speak with you."

As always was his nature to come down to business, his mouth pressed into a firm line, an indication that he'd steer the conversation in a direction that best fit him.

"Is it true that the others are dead?" She asked, beating him to it.

Banachek sighed heavily.

That was never a good sign.

"Yes, it's true."

"I thought the pods were foolproof." She hoped he would take it as an accusation. A large part of her wanted him to feel bad.

"Their oxygen was the first to go when the external power lines were destroyed. And they suffocated." He explained. "Even with their implants it's too late to save them."

"Then install new ones."

"If it was that easy…"

"You did it once," she said, "you can do it again. Can't you?" She stepped in closer. "Isn't that what the advanced research division is for?" She knew she was letting the situation get to her but not even her own efforts could stave off the tremors in her voice. "What good are you if you let your own people die?"

"These circumstances are different," he replied, the ruth not withheld from his voice and hearing it tempered her angered somewhat. Then, the director shook his head. "I know you were close to them, and trust me I understand this can't be easy on you. But even if we had the time, we don't have the reasonable funds. In the meantime, you should have someone check your wounds."

"What is that supposed to mean?" All of her worst fears hit her like a solid punch in the gut. Would she have to be let go? Those implications scared her and her heartbeat thudded like a drumroll.

One eye widened as he raised a brow. "It means you look worse for wear," Banachek said simply.

"No," Lyn said firmly, "What does it mean that we don't have the reasonable funds?"

Banachek frowned.

"The Reconnoiter program has been terminated due to today's events. The government is defunding it. By the end of this week, it's been rumored Sector Seven will be shut down.'

Lyn felt a stone drop into her stomach.


	8. Care

Chapter Seven: Care

 **Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada 1:40 AM**

 _The wind siphoning out of her throat steals her chance to scream._

 _A foreboding thought rears its ugly head to the forefront of her mind: I am going to die._

 _Jagged metal takes up her vision._

 _"I may let you live if you show me my Cube."_

 _Quicksand rises and swallow up her efforts to stay calm. "I don't know." She hears the words, small and shrill, and realizes they were her own._

 _Sharp, cold metal about her waist threatens to slice through layers of her flesh and bone as easily as a hot knife could slice through butter._

 _Her muscles quiver from tension, something unbidden rushes through her veins. Something alive spreading out a web at the base of her skull where her implant resides._

 _Her hand moves._

 _She smells her skin sizzle._

 _Metal cogs unwind._

 _She's falling._

"Can you feel that?"

Goosebumps swept over her skin as she shoved herself into real time, climbing out of the dark, scary hole she fell in. She was losing her mind.

Focus.

"I'm sorry-" she shook her head and her nostrils flared as she breathed deeply through her nose. Stale, hospital air flooded into her lungs and added to the dryness in her throat. At least she didn't smell blood. "Wh...What?"

"Your burns," he said, "You have second degree burns." His gloved fingers deftly pried her fingers open to show her newly bandaged hand. "Most people wouldn't take it as smoothly as you do. How can you not feel it?"

Lyn looked down and inspected her palm wrapped in white that hid the pink mesh of blistering, raw skin beneath it.

When Director Banachek had her transported across the other side of the installation to the clinic, most of the base was already asleep, so she wasn't surprised that very few personnel were awake during these early hours of dawn. The medic in front of her was just one of the few airmen on the skeleton shift.

"You really look bad," he commented when she hadn't said anything.

"Others have it worse," she said.

The Air Force medic studied her before he nodded. "You're right." Taking in her dirty attire, he said, "I'll see if anyone is up to spare you some clothes." He patted her knee and turned away.

"What's the date?" she asked before he was out of his sight.

His eyes briefly flicked up to the ceiling in thought. "Sunday, the twenty-ninth of October."

Then, the man left her in solitude.

When the door clicked shut, she was finally allowed to mull over her thoughts without interruption. In reality, she didn't want to think of anything at the moment but she did, in spite of herself.

The news of Sector Seven's fate didn't dwell well in her mind. However, she accepted this, knowing worse things could be happening to her right now. S7 could've detained her and could've removed her implant but she wasn't particularly thankful for that - her current arrangement was always subject to change. And it didn't help that she felt no sense of accomplishment after all that had transpired.

It was a relief that Ratchet had done whatever he had to stop her chip. At least, she wouldn't have to worry about aliens flocking to her doorstep and smearing the ground with her.

Though, it didn't change that the Allspark was still in the possession of man. Earth would be a target for outsiders. If it hasn't been broadcasted yet to every alien bastard, then it will. And she never wanted to wake up to this.

To this fucking disaster.

No matter what happened, nothing would change that she'd caused all of this - nothing could possibly wash off the blood of strangers tainting her hands.

Guilt was unpleasant - but what she felt was beyond that and it had black talons sinking into her back, trapping her in its unrelinquishing clutch. It made her question why she hadn't perished with the rest of her team. Made her question why Captain Lennox thought it was such a good idea to let her live. Her closest friends - the ones that had made life bearable after she awoke from the far side of death - were gone. Why couldn't she?

The thought filled her with such darkness her eyes brimmed with tears and she hastily swiped a sleeve across her face before evidence of her regret could streak down her cheeks. She grit her teeth hard like she would fall apart to stop the sob from escaping her throat.

What she would do then for a touch of comfort. For familiarity. For sickening reassurance to hover over her head. For a clear conscious.

She wanted to forget the last thirteen hours.

The door opened and the medic slipped his upper body through, setting down a neat folded stack of clothes on the counter, and positioned a pair of boots beside it.

"It's nothing fancy, but I figured it's better than what you're wearing now."

"Thank you," she murmured. Any louder and he would have heard the thickness in her voice.

"I'll give you a few minutes." He said with an encouraging smile and left her again.

Lyn stripped out of her grubby outfit, Lyn changed into the new articles of clothing, disregarding the stickiness of her skin, the tangle of knots forming in her short black hair and the ache in her spine. She shuffled to the sink in the far corner and turned on the running water to wash off her face with one hand. After she finished, she slid back onto the examination table.

 _Keep moving forward, girlie. Keep moving. You're not helping anyone otherwise._ She repeated that silently over and over until there was an echo to it.

Her body slouched forward and the moment her head drooped into her hands, an ungodly discomfort took presence in her skull and spread down her skeleton. It felt like someone were slamming a gavel to every bone. Pain lanced through her like a lightning bolt bouncing off every molecule in her body. Gray symbols danced across her vision tauntingly. Before she could register her knees hitting the floor, Lyn crumpled forward before the cracking of hardened tissue abruptly ended.

Hands hooked under her armpits and jerked her up. A headache brewed in the rear of her skull as she heard a muffled voice exclaim into her ear.

"Are you okay?"

She turned her face to him with livid eyes and the medic paled, staggering back from the ferocity of the shriek ripping out of her throat.

"Stay away from me!"

XXX

 **Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada 1:40 AM**

Only an hour ago was his medic adamant to ignore him. It wasn't so often that Ratchet openly expressed his displeasure towards him, but when he did his life hinged on making it obvious. So, naturally, Optimus let him stew and reverently maintained a distance from the elderly mech. Now, Ratchet seemed to vy for the Prime's attention with every pointed stare he sent his way.

Optimus cycled his vents and finally acknowledged him. "Speak freely, Ratchet."

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" his medic said bluntly.

Responded with only silence, Ratchet continued, "You're not saying anything, so I'm assuming you are."

"I am deliberating all of our allies," Optimus replied without sparing a glance to Ratchet. "It's not enough to have only the welcome of those who've fought with us in this war; if we plan to establish a presence on Earth, it'll take more than a few voices to speak on our behalf."

"Who says she's an ally?"

"I do."

"So...how long before we see our afts kicked off?" Ironhide's question echoed off the walls in the hangar and planted a seed of doubt in the center of everyone's helm.

When they first arrived, Captain Lennox had appealed to the base commander to grant temporary station for the Autobots. And his request proved fruitful. So as long as they stayed within the installation, drew no unneeded attention to themselves and abided to the laws of the country, in which Optimus would ensure they would, they would be safe.

He replayed the man's reassurances shortly before he left, hoping Lennox's words would comfort him.

 _Optimus, while you're on this base I assure you no one is gonna force you to do anything. But, in the meantime, I'm gonna be gone for a few days - Secretary of Defense asked me to accompany him back to DC. Once I'm back we'll figure something out._ Captain Lennox had said, _If you need anything, you can call me. Everything will be okay._ He had tapped the mobile device in his hand before he pocketed it at his breast.

Optimus appraised the man for his compassion and his confidence. But, he learned that such reassurances evoked only temporary relief. Time would tell before this peace gave way to chaos once more.

"Until they think we've overstayed our welcome," Optimus said. "Or until the Decepticons are gone. Indefinitely."

In the corner of the hangar, Bumblebee chirped cheerlessly in a squat. For some reason, the scout refrained from using his vocalizer. When Optimus questioned him, the yellow mech had only replied that he would wait until his systems fully repaired them.

"Hmph." Ratchet folded his servos over his chassis. "Be that as it may, I think you worry too much. The war is over-"

"It is far from over and you know that," Optimus interrupted sternly and wished he could take back his harsh response when he saw the medic collapsed.

Metal parts clanged noisily as they collided with the ground.

Seeing Ratchet reduce to such a state so quickly alit his systems with anxiety and he sprinted to the mech's side. A black blur caught the corner of his optic that he'd pegged as Ironhide joining the floor just as well when a loud buzz pricked his sensors. When he felt his own servos offlining, his mobility lagging, Optimus dropped to a knee and his frame quivered until his network onlined again.

"What in the stars-" Ratchet choked, pushing himself off the ground unsteadily.

"Ratchet," Optimus said, regaining his balance when the interruption ceased. "Are any of you injured?"

"I'm...fine," Ratchet answered.

"Ironhide? Bumblebee?"

After a string of curses, Ironhide groaned from all fours, "Never better."

Bumblebee lifted his helm from where it had dropped, touching his index digit to his thumb and waving it reassuringly.

"You felt it too, didn't you?" Ratchet asked their leader, faceplates shifted to bewilderment.

"I did," Optimus replied grimly.

Ratchet studied him, his cautious curiosity ushered in a moment of intense silence.

"It's that girl." The medic uttered, dropping his helm for a quick scan down the length of Optimus' protoform as a precaution. Not detecting any permanent damage upon his leader's motherboard, Ratchet said, "We need to find her."

His leader nodded, unable to dispute the urgency in his old friend's optics.

XXX

 **Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada 2:20 AM**

"Don't touch me! Get away!"

"I didn't do anything." the man said calmly, having composed himself after her outburst. And that truly terrified her. His indifference to her panic was testimony that whatever she had suffered was a game of the mind. "Listen, I can help you with whatever's going on but I'm gonna need you to calm down." He tried to touch her shoulder but she wrenched away from his grasp, his reassurances sailing over her head.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" She hissed.

Lyn's eyes darted to the door and she lurched for it, throwing back the handle. With one foot in front of the other, she steered herself down the hall to the nearest exit.

Ignoring his verbal attempts for her return, Lyn slammed her shoulder into the emergency exit and a cold billow of air hit her face as her feet ran out onto the parking lot behind the clinic.

Above her, twilight had long given way to the pitch black of night. It was serene, but she wasn't too engrossed by the sight to overlook the bright beams glaring at her from the distance. They closed in quickly. While her body was frozen in place, her mind, on the contrary, was not.

 _What's happening to me?_

 _I'm losing it_

 _Fuck…_

 _I'm losing it._

 _I can't be._

 _It's over if I do._

Every chaotic thought and premonition blurred her vision to the point that she lost her focus on the semi rolling towards her. The roar of its engine tickled her eardrums.

Lyn reared back in alarm, falling on her haunches and whimpered at the impact.

The headlights were on her face and her bandaged hand flew up to shield her eyes.

The ruckus of gears grinding and metal hissing as parts slid over each other didn't so much as rouse her from dread rather than intensify it.

A bright beam still drowned her in white from a new vantage point and she looked up, discerning the corona blue of Optimus Prime's eyes before she was swallowed back into that bottomless hole.

Jazz's name slurred off her tongue and all too quickly she was sealed in darkness.

 **xxx**

 **Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada 1:30 PM**

It was the next day on Nellis Air Base, well into the afternoon when Ironhide watched Sergeant Epps escort the scout off the vicinity in a military owned vehicle.

With his locomotion restored by Ratchet, the bot informed their leader at the soonest chance that he was medically cleared to return to unrestricted duties… And of course to that Witwicky adolescent the scout was so fond of. So, clearly Optimus Prime granted his request as promised.

And Ratchet's incessant prattling in the background almost convinced Ironhide to follow. Yet, for some reason, he stayed. Partially, because he knew Prime, unlike with Bumblebee, would deny him.

For all one knows, if he had his own human to guard maybe then Prime would allow him leave from base. Even better, he'd be away from Ratchet who thought his medical opinion was always to be taken as the word of Primus. However, that goes without saying Ironhide had gotten used to Ratchet's snickering, but it hadn't made it any more enjoyable.

"...therefore you had a greater tolerance to her than any of us did," Ratchet concluded. Actually - to "conclude" would mean the fussy CMO had finished his patter. And no fool would believe that to be true.

Ratchet stood at Prime's side scrutinizing the unconscious girl, wearing this disfavoring look at how her body curled inside the driver's seat of their leader's alt mode. "However, she's not in any stable state. She'll do more damage to us and to you than she already has. You shouldn't have her so...close."

"She is fine where she is," their leader intoned.

Ironhide rolled his optics. Leave it to Prime to care for anything smaller than himself. There was much charity to be found in a mech his size and Ironhide did not envy him for it.

"She is not fine." Ratchet argued. "The device in her occipital lobe has repaired itself in a matter of hours. Not only has the signal amplified, but it's sporadic. I could remove the implant entirely and-"

"I will not allow it."

Ironhide almost laughed at his leader's behavior. If it wasn't painfully obvious before that Optimus had a weak spot for humans, then it was now.

"Well, if we can't explain what is wrong with her nor resolve it, is her kind capable of making better progress? She poses a danger to us and to herself. A mere human poses a danger to us...Furthermore, would you rather the Decepticons find her?"

" Ratchet..." Optimus started. Just when Ironhide thought he'd agree with the yellow mech's advice, Prime's tires rotated as he inched to the back of the hangar where their comrade recharged. "Wake up Jazz."

The medic deadpanned. "Highly discouraged."

"Ratchet..."

"You want to wake up your lieutenant who is trying to recover from being torn apart and danced on by a raging Decepticon lunatic? You must have a loose wire."

When the red and blue semi-truck hadn't braked, Ratchet cycled his intakes harshly. "Oh for the love of - Fine."

Ironhide followed in the wake of the medic's stomping trail until he was directly overseeing their hibernating comrade.

Jazz had outdone himself.

The 2IC laid atop a blue tarp in his protoform. It was only several micro-cycles ago that Ratchet had to assist Jazz in a forced transformation. The procedure was so unbearable for Jazz that Ratchet had to offline his vocalizer to preserve his fragile audials from his screams.

Ironhide's spark shrunk back in the depths of his chamber unpleasantly. Looking now at the crippled servo, with his mounting bracket crushed against his pylon, the weapons specialist could almost feel the brunt of Jazz's injuries.

Almost.

Ratchet surpassed him in all medical knowledge but Ironhide recognized an infliction beyond repair when he saw one. And Jazz...

Optics fluttered awake. "Oh... whoa... _OP_...is... is that you?" Jazz said, a happy chirp trilling in his vocal processor. "Need me tah can a Con for ya?"

Ironhide bowed his helm.

Maybe it was too early to make any calls.

"Is...Is that sweet thang...in...there?" One of Jazz's digits twitched. "Noisy as Pit, that's how I know."

Still in his alt form, Prime's voice passed through his grill. "I'm sorry to wake you during your convalescence, but there are a few things I must ask of you concerning Lyn."

"Well, I was havin a playback about my gears bein oiled. But, whatevah ya say boss."

"Thank you."

"So...What's this all about?"

"While you were asleep, an EMP disrupted our systems... and it originated from Lyn."

"Hm." Jazz fell silent, optics shuddering closed, thoughtful. "Full of surprises aint she? Makes ya wonder why Megatron let her go."

Their processors rewinded with that newfound information.

Ironhide's optics could have popped out of his sockets. "The tyrant did what?"

"He had her and then he dropped her. Somethin wrong with that?" Jazz asked testily. "I mean I can't see anything wrong with that, Hide. Would you rather he didn't let her go? Turn her into jam? Rip her in half and make two sweet thangs of her? I see, I see."

"You're giving me an excuse to hurt you," Ironhide said.

Something close to a chuckle escaped Jazz's lips. "Go right ahead. Would still look better than you did after all those times Chromia had your exhaust port handed back to you."

He'd felt his cannons twitch at his remark.

"Besides," Jazz said, "I can't get any worse than this."

Before Ironhide could say - could do much else, Prime interrupted. "Jazz, Megatron does not have the capacity to spare a human life."

At this, the silver mech directed a calmly defiant look at the Peterbilt. "He spared hers." His words carried an undertone of guilt. "You think this is tied to her EM blast?"

"It is." Optimus confirmed. "And we must find a way to stop it. However, that is not my reason for waking you."

"Sure, so what is?"

"I believe, once Lyn is able - which will be soon, she would be more forthcoming if you spoke to her instead."

"Uh...I think…" Jazz trailed off as though distracted. Then, his digits almost formed into a fist. "...We got company."

At the entrance of the Hangar, three unmarked vehicles pulled in and the passengers unloaded. Ironhide had the distinct feeling that these apes weren't here to wax their fenders. At the sight of Agent Simmons approaching them, he could finally confirm his suspicions.

"Where's the girl?" The long nosed human with the receding hairline. The man stomped forth. Tailing behind him was that damned human from the city that had the gall to threaten Prime. His servos twitched and for a fleeting moment he imagined the male's smug face crushed between his digits.

The men surrounding the agent were without their weapons and Ironhide was slightly satisfied by this.

"What girl?" Ratchet asked, performing a shrug.

"Don't take me as stupid sunshine," Agent Simmons barked. "You know what girl."

With languid ease, Prime transformed and looked down at the group with the female cradled in his servo. The humans were nonplussed and Simmons threw his hands up in the air.

"What is this!?"

"I've taken it upon myself to ward away those who'd seek only to exploit her."

"Exploi- Is that what she said?" Simmons sputtered. "FYI, she volunteered for this. Now step aside."

"No."

"Okay fine," the man relented. "I'm trying to be civil here, King Kong…"

Ironhide researched the term then extracted his cannon. "You'd compare my leader to a gorilla!? Prime is nothing like your primitive cousins." His opinion of humanity was always unfavorable, but now it reached an all time low.

"It was a figure of speech," Simmons added quickly.

"I'll turn you into a figure of speech under my pede," Ironhide replied.

The man scrubbed a hand over his face. Tiredly, he said, "Listen Optimus girl is a valuable government asset. She needs to be accounted for. Can you just hand her over... Peacefully? Without Rambo here redecorating the damn place with bullet holes?" He jabbed a thumb In Ironhide's direction.

The weapons specialist snorted.

"Optimus," Ratchet said, resonating a hum of uncertainty, "Maybe it is a good idea to let them have..." the medic didn't finish when Prime knelt down to the agent.

"She is staying with us."

Ironhide knew the man could do nothing about it.

 **Xxx**

 **Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada 2:30 PM**

When Lyn stirred awake, she'd groaned at something poking against her back as though she were sleeping on a gravel bed. And when she opened her eyes, Optimus Prime was the last thing she expected. His metal face...plates - she supposed she could call them that - shifted, loosely resembling a human's when they were...surprised.

Her first reaction came out as a terrified yelp.

Impulsively, Lyn rolled off the edge of his hand only to be caught around the torso with his other. Megatron popped into her mind then - how he'd yanked her out of Jazz. And then she noticed Prime's grip around her was much less constricted.

The mech's sigh brimmed with exasperation, and she thought it was a strikingly human gesture. As she quickly looked down, Lyn saw her legs dangling precariously several feet from the ground and contemplated what a fatal drop would do to her body.

Wordlessly, the giant mech lowered and released Lyn from his possession. His curious gaze washed over Lyn's form when the harrowing events of last night hit her with full force.

The clinic. The pain. Him.

"Hey there, sweet thang."

Lyn whirled around quickly at the voice. Her heart became a heavy presence in her chest.

He was a busted silver car last she saw him. Now, he was a busted silver robot propped against a wall, looking at her without any reservations. Lyn couldn't help the unbidden tears from building at the edges of her eyelids. "I'm…so glad you're okay."

"Whoa...WHOA…" Leaning back in hesitation, Jazz's optics flew up to meet the face of his leader just before he fixed his bright blue attention on the flubbering female. "No leakin lubricants now... I don't got anythin' in my data banks to remedy that emotional response." When the tears fell from her eyes, Jazz stuttered at a surprising volume, "R-Ratch- RATCHET!"

"It's okay, Jazz," Lyn dabbed at her eyes, the corners of her lips attempted a weak smile. "…I've got it. I'm fine."

With his horror quelled, the mech was slow to form a grin and pointed up a finger, curling it and then repeating the motion. "There's my gal."

Realizing that he motioned for her to come to him, Lyn stepped over to his side and sat down on her knees.

"I'm sorry," Lyn said.

"Nah. It's gonna be jus' fine," Jazz cooed as she cupped the extension in both hands.

 _Touch._

 _Familiarity._

 _Reassurance._

Lyn tightened her grip and sniffed discretely, unbeknownst to her that a red and blue mech watched the reunion unfold with a stutter from his spark tapping riotously against its casing.

It was an unwelcome sensation.

 **AN: Because a reviewer requested to see Jazz/OC fluff I sprinkled some of that in, although keep in mind this is OP/OC focused. Also, to clarify Jazz's injuries, he has the equivalent of a broken arm and a dislocated shoulder. And stripped armor. That was what Ironhide could see, but in the chapter 'Ambitious', there are also details that mention Jazz suffered something similar to "internal bleeding"- so that basically summarizes the extent of his wounds. Anyways, see you wonderful readers in the next chapter.**

 **AN: Did I forget to mention that I don't own squat. No? Well I don't own squat that is recognizable and I'm not making any profit from this.**

 **Guest reviewer: You made my day, truly. I love reviews, I just hate asking for them. Reviewers are candies to my sweet tooth.**


	9. Shy

**Chapter Eight : Shy**

 **Nellis Air Base, Nevada 9:00 PM**

He'd recently adopted the habit of searching the darkness of the sky in silence, wondering if the Autobots he'd fought with on Cybertron were staring back.

"You spend all your bloody time looking up, and for what?"

Optimus closed his optics and bowed his helm.

Ironhide was easily older than him by several hundred vorn. Often times, he would wonder if age made him so cynical. And then, Optimus would also wonder if pessimism was an appropriate trait to have in dire situations.

He opened his optics. "For hope," he said.

"Hope," Ironhide echoed with distaste. "You say that so fraggin much, I've forgotten what it means."

Optimus knew the mech was bluffing. He had to remind himself that Ironhide found amusement in baiting others.

"I haven't." Optimus said, "I look up to remind myself that I'm not on Cybertron."

"And that is supposed to be hopeful?"

"Yes. It's proof of how far we've come."

Ironhide shook his head. "You haven't changed. Alpha Trion spent too much time coddling you with all that idealistic nonsense."

"If he had not, would we even be here?"

Ironhide looked down at his pedes. Optimus did not give him time to come up with answer. "We would still be slaves to the Quintessons and the system they subjected us to. I would rather be here knowing I am free than to live as though I were not."

When Ironhide didn't respond, Optimus knew the conversation was over. He tilted his face slightly towards the black mech and was surprised to find him staring skyward.

"Any feedback yet?" Ironhide asked without glancing at him.

"Nothing."

Sadly.

"They'll come." Ironhide said.

Optimus sent him a quizzical look.

"No one can resist the call of a Prime." Ironhide stated. "While you have your silly stars to gaze at, you're all they have left for hope."

His words were strangely condescending, but Optimus did not challenge him. He didn't see the appeal in making an argument out of a provocation.

A small cough grabbed both their attentions behind them.

Optimus suspected it was her. There were hardly any humans in the immediate vicinity.

"Prime," Lyn said, "May I speak with you?"

Optimus nodded at Ironhide, and the black mech was dismissed.

 **xxx**

 **Washington D.C, EST 5:30 AM**

It was with all due respect that Captain Lennox thought the Secretary of Defense was a slimy bastard. He was supposed to be back home with Sarah and endure the few choice words she had for him. Not on the other side of the country, donned in stiff service dress and standing at attention in the center of a shadowy conference room with the presence of two of the joint chiefs of staff, Secretary Keller and his deputy, and National security advisor Hadler.

And he hated wearing service dress.

It was with very short notice that the Secretary of Defense mentioned this meeting on the jet en route to DC.

This wasn't a meeting he was particularly prepared for and his feet were aching in his low quarters from standing so long. The inside of his mouth turned into sandpaper, and he caught himself staring at Hadler's cup of water five times already. He felt like a bug on display, or even an alien himself by the way the men sat around him in a semicircle, with their hands clasped atop the table officially.

He'd been told, as a soldier, he could never skip the chain of command. It disrupted the order of the military. And now he was contending with two four stars and the closest thing to the commander in chief.

The damn irony.

"Captain Lennox," General Schultz of the Army raised his hand to stop the man. It never meant anything good. Lennox was sweating bullets as is, and he hoped he hadn't said anything too offensive. "I think what you're proposing is absolutely absurd."

Lennox caved in slightly.

"An alliance?" Schultz continued. "With the aliens? That's a good way for them to jeopardize our national security."

Advisor Hadler beside him, nodded. His black suit and red tie looked more rigid than the body wearing it. Probably was. "They are a threat to this country greater than anything that has so far made the papers."

"Sir, these Autobots are not like their counterparts who attacked Hoover Dam and Mission City." Lennox said. "They come in peace."

"Well I'll be damned. I thought I'd never hear anyone say that." General Morsehower of the United States Marine Corps said. He looked to be sixty yet there was no trace of middle age soft in him. If he ever did anything to deserve it, he'd bet that Morsehower could clock him in the jaw and that would be the end of Will Lennox.

Goes to show the marines don't fuck around when it comes to fitness.

"We have their artifact." Advisor Hadler pointed out. "What makes you so certain that the enemy won't strike us at the soonest chance?"

Lennox cleared his throat. And there was the problem. They were equating the Autobots to the Decepticons. "Sir, if anything that is why now is an excellent opportunity to make an alliance and to protect our country. The Autobots don't wish us harm and we can't continue under the pretense that we're alone in this universe. There are enemies who have battle tactics that surpass anyone, anything I've seen in the military. They're cunning, they're bigger, they're badder. So far, the Autobots have proven their proficiency in warding their enemy."

"And should they turn on us?" Advisor Hadler asked.

"They've put their lives on the line beside my men," Lennox said.

He raised a brow. "What's your point?"

"The point is we shouldn't sell them short - they're more trustworthy than you think they are."

"They're robots. They're metal. You think they have the capacity to comprehend camaraderie and honor like we do? Is that all it takes- just one battle and ET gets to be your friend? Your judgement then is questionable."

Lennox fought hard to not flip him the bird.

"The enemies of our enemies are our friends, Advisor Hadler," Secretary Keller commented off-handedly.

Hadler gave a sidelong glance at the Secretary of Defense. "You cannot possibly be considering-"

"I've seen what those monsters are capable of." Keller maintained an even tone. "Best thing left is to have monsters like them on our side." If Lennox didn't know any better, he would've thought the man held a special bias for him, or against Hadler.

"And this Cube?" Schultz added.

Lennox didn't miss a beat. "If it could be returned to them-"

"Not a chance in hell are we handing over something that can fall into the wrong hands." Schultz interrupted.

"Understood, sir." Lennox did his best to mask his grimace. Why would you even ask in the first place?

"So, then what does that leave of the mess at Hoover Dam?" Morsehower asked, pushing the topics forward.

"We've already decided to decommission this Sector Seven." Hadler answered. "Any accounts of it is buried six feet under the ground."

"If I might add, their scientists could be of a benefit to us, sir. They've dedicated their lives to studying the aliens and the Cube." Lennox provided.

"They've dedicated their lives to luring them to our world, captain!" Hadler retorted. "Didn't you say this Reconnoiter Program made efforts to reach out to these intergalactic warmongers?" With his point made, the advisor leaned back in his seat and crossed an ankle over his knee. "That is precisely the reason we are shutting down this sector. I say to hell with their schemes."

Secretary Keller cleared his throat loudly. "The captain makes a valid point, Advisor Hadler. In unprecedented instances like this, any Intel against our invaders proves useful. You cannot honestly say you know the enemy better than the man who's fought against them."

"Fine, but we are decommissioning all of their projects. Everything will be disclosed to both the president and myself and we will make the necessary reassignments of directors as soon as possible."

"I think it will require more say than that, Mr. Hadler. I'd say it would be an awful lot of money going down the drain if we're to deactivate every venture our forefathers have made."

When the advisor said nothing in refutation, Keller said, "As for you Captain Lennox, I think we need more information before we decide what to do with our new friends."

Hadler was non-plussed and the two generals remained impassive.

Before he could speak, Will Lennox thought that he deserved a generous leave after this.

 **xxx**

 **Nellis Air Base, Nevada 9:03 PM**

"I spoke to Jazz. He explained everything to me."

By everything, she meant last night. Her implant was still functioning in full. She'd thought then that it must've had self repair abilities, but Jazz challenged her theory. He'd said the implant wasn't that advanced. However, she didn't believe him. A part of her almost convinced herself that Ratchet may have even done something to sabotage her chip - trigger her hallucinations.

But, she didn't tell Jazz that.

"I didn't mean for the signal to hurt you, any of you…" she paused and rubbed the back of her neck. "...I thought Ratchet muted me."

"As did we," Prime replied. "But things did not go as expected."

God, looking up at him for so long cramped her neck. She settled with staring out into the dark horizon defined by the jagged mountain range. It was only a day ago that they'd met officially in this same exact spot. What she'd accomplished between then and now was eat a box of donuts she'd found on a table in one of the back rooms of the Hangar. An airmen had come in to find it was empty. There was judgment in his eyes.

She didn't care in the least.

"Tell me about it," she said.

Nervousness was starting to gnaw at her. She felt like she was wasting his time so she tried to fill the silence.

"Jazz was right. I am a government project."

She knew the Autobots already knew that. But, now she was confirming it.

Lyn was arguing with herself on what next to say -what was the right thing to say. She felt like she couldn't reveal too much, but she knew she couldn't say too little. She didn't know how much Optimus Prime wanted to hear. Or if he even cared to.

Jazz had urged her to speak with him openly and it took her all of four hours to decide if she could. She wasn't usually this nervous when it came to speaking with strangers but, Prime's approval meant so much to her.

And she didn't know why it should.

"You don't need to explain."

Lyn looked up at him in surprise.

"But you deserve to hear," she argued.

Optimus Prime shook his head. "Anything you say now is unlikely to change my opinion of you."

"And what is that?"

"That you are as determined to protect your home as anyone else who's so far sacrificed for it. Your methods, however, to accomplishing that are your own."

What did that say of him, then? The Autobots have sacrificed for Earth. They've sustained more injuries than she has. A stranger who is willing to go such lengths for others they barely know, is unheard of. It was a type of charity that didn't exist.

"Why are you so eager to protect us? You've hardly lived here long enough," she asked.

"Of course I haven't." Matter of fact. No mockery.

"Then why?"

"Because our mistakes are not yours to bear."

Lyn told herself that was a lie. The only reason the Autobots would fight for the human race was because they still had the Cube.

"We brought this upon ourselves," she said.

"I disagree."

"What do you know?" Lyn said. It was closer to a snap.

Optimus Prime said nothing. She realized he had a tendency to do that.

She nodded to herself. "Exactly. You don't know anything. You don't know that we sent out a signal to draw you aliens in. I was there." Lyn quieted some. "I worked with the people who falsified the same Allspark code that is in my implant."

It's our fault.

It's my fault.

Lyn told herself not to cry. She'd cried enough and it was embarrassing as is. She imagined someone were holding a gun to her head, and they would pull the trigger if they saw any tears fall.

She heard the metal parts of him shift as he knelt down, his arm propped up on his knee. His face was closer. She could tell Optimus Prime was leveling the playing field. From this distance, his eyes were brighter than the stars.

"Then, I'm glad," he said gently, as though he felt her conflict.

She blinked.

"What?"

"The Autobots have been scouring the universe in hopes of finding the Cube. It's because of your efforts that I can finally be at rest knowing that it is not in Decepticon hands," he said.

"Even if you don't have it?"

"I will admit I foresaw better outcomes, however, this isn't the worst of them. I could have sacrificed myself for the Cube."

Lyn felt something stir within her, a shift in her chest.

A clear conscience, her mind said.

"Thank you, Optimus." Would it be appropriate to say she felt relieved? "I'm….honoured you made it to Earth."

The gentle smile he gave her made her feel the shift a little bit more. It was her heart swelling- growing, trying to contain her elation. It almost made her forget that the Reconnoiter team was dead.

"The honor is mine, Lyn."

She decided she'd tell him everything.

 **AN: I really have a feeling this is filler, and I hate reading fillers in stories. Oh well, at least it's short...er than the other chapters. That marks the end of part one and I warn you the Ninth Chapter will have some of a time skip, probs because I want to usher in ROTF ASAP. AND start molding the relationship for OP/Lyn AND a little bit of OP/(?).**


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